In the city

As a child in the afternoons
I walked home
barefoot along a sand road
with a short sleeved shirt and short pants
and the red brown sand
burnt my feet
but the air was bright blue,

I smelled the Lucerne of the field,
sometimes took a short cut through the stream,
birdcalls were like music
and the whole world belonged to me
and in everything
I could see the Lord’s works
and knew that I was serving
a loving Father.

l’Envoi
Now I walk with hand made shoes
in a designer suit
on concrete streets
from my car to the lift
then on thick carpets
to my office
and in the background
I can hear the air conditioner
and somewhere life
has lost its soul.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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