28 June 2011
burlap bags of oily grey seeds.
a woman draped in black, hands out, eyes closed.
while by my side,
tiny hands to hold
as cobblestones wobble ankles.
a new bohemia.

tobacco swirls, sweet familiar rolls, dust
filters from double doors protecting damp darkened courtyards behind
in which light eventually dapples.
clothes on the lines flap high overhead
all signaling
a new bohemia.

a start with slow strolls and no cares
until a crosswalk interrupts those thoughts.
Grapevines trellis overhead,
mulberries stain the cement and a small, yet strong, voice
a new bohemia.


Megan said...

I've been a Loving Rice reader for almost 2 years. I'm sorry you won't be in Thailand because I enjoyed your short stories. Your poetry is beautiful. Enjoyable to see another side to your writing. Thank you for bringing your Loving Rice readers with you.

Steph said...

You write poetry too? Is there anything you don't do?

Margaret said...

Shelby, you are inspiring. I look forward to reading more!

Todd Hampton said...

DAMN! I now have a lump in my throat.

Sarah said...

Pretty blog Shelby!

Molly said...

This is beautiful. The last three lines made me think you have a child. I read your about you page and then thought you are one strong person to live as a foreigner with 3 children. I have 1 and couldn't do it! Good luck. I'm happy to have found you here.

Shelby from said...

@Megan: Thank you for the compliments and for joining me on a new bohemia!

Shelby from said...

@Steph: I don't bungee jump, square dance, eat any burger less than well done or wear the color orange... ;)

Asa said...

I really enjoy your observations of the culture around you. Coming from Loving Rice. Congratulations on the move to Georgia!

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