“You fill up my senses, like light in a forest…”
Not quite…
Diesel exhaust,
Hot dogs grilling on a vendor’s cart
Popcorn,
Starbucks’ coffee brewing at a corner store,
Whiffs of perfume,
Nicotene addicts’ acrid effluvia.
Human voices speaking many languages,
Clicks of the heel taps at the Tomb of the Unknowns,
Helicopters overhead, wooka-wooka-wooka,
Jets screaming aloft at 2-minute intervals,
Birds calling in the quiet of Arlington Cemetery,
Sirens' urgency dulled by their frequency,
And the throaty rumble of traffic an auditory foundation.
Tourists with cameras and funny hats,
Looking up, snapping photos.
Men in dark suits,
Carrying briefcases, hurrying,
Women dressed classy, heels tapping pavements,
Inscrutable behind their sunglasses.
Joggers earbudded.
Poised impatiently at every crosswalk.
The city's servants--cooking, cleaning,
watering, weeding, serving, selling.
King students moving like snails,
Shod in flip-flops despite good counsel.
Surprising vistas—
The domed Capitol,
Monuments lit by sun-light or spot-light
Against skies' blues.
Bright flowers against green.
White gravestones in ordered rows,
Soldiers, sailors, airmen, policemen
Fit, uniformed, hair cut close.
The capital’s homeless in layers of clothing
No matter the weather.
Warm sunshine,
Cool breezes,
Whoosh of stale wind as a train streaks past
the Metro platform.
Tired feet,
Sore muscles.
Down comforter.
Senses overloaded.
Sleepy bus trip.
Home.
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