Cigarette Break

[DieterM]

I step out on the street
and light my cigarette
the office building in my back
cold steel and concrete and glass

In my back but how far
oh so far away
the numbers and letters
and blinking signs on the screen

Early spring air nuzzles my face
stray sunrays dance on winterwhite skin
Birches sway like a choir of brides
Willow branches dangle gingerly

I can almost hear the sound
of lawn mowers and tiny airplanes
smell the first daffodils
and hear blades of grass stretch up

I keep a taste of new things
and Easter chocolate
and nicotine
on my tongue

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm not sure I could follow the logical trail of the images, but what a feast of them there was! That last verse is like a burst of song!

[JackieGinger]

This poem is like good music.
The change in perspective in the second strophe is very visual! It is soul-warming to read it!
And sorry for being personal, but it was a real joy reading the parts where you write about springtime!
Thank you for that!

[deryk]

Great imagery! You've really captured the beauty of an especially hapless moment in the day. The stanzas really jostle with energy, the way you redirect the scene. It's a bright draft in a dismal environment. Well done.

[DieterM]

@ PrinceMyshkin: I'm glad you enoyed it. As for the logical trail, there is none. I was inspired at work when I indeed went downstairs to smoke a cigarette and discovered the early spring day with all its splendour. I closed my eyes, the sun tickled my skin, and I thought of birchtrees swaying in a soft breeze, of the willow under which I used to play as a child (we imagined its branches were lianas and we played at Tarzan saving Jane, see). As for the sound of lawn mowers and small airplanes, I've always associated them with high summer. So these are very personal images.

@JackieGinger: Don't be sorry; I gather all of us who have gone through a very cold winter long for that smooth and sweet springtime to come at last! Thank you for your nice words!

@deryk: Thank you, too!