Change, by Kate Copeland

Harbinger, by Jack Balas (USA) 1987. Click image for artist site.

Change
​
Right now I don’t feel a city in me,
no life in a night without edges, no
night on the Cali-coastline like before. 
Some days may show beauty and 
some just the fumes, 
or high-risers and designer jackets, 
really, does he true-ly
live under this sky, and what
does he paint for a living? Structures 
I think I need to follow, 
fascinatingly complicated, while 
fortifying
under a new-ly occurring moon, 
under a one-cloud shout, with shades
on my body, suddenly surrounded
by hot stones, cold feet,
while wondering
wandering 
with you in silent city lanes,
a day and age
so far ago, it seems all dream without wooden locks,
so fast forwarded, seems I feel a solar upgrade 
to some self, a weather watcher, continuously 
observing changing, more and more
episodes to hold on-holding on,
a mass lingering
past hope and dream,
past peace and machines.

Kate Copeland

Kate Copeland started absorbing stories ever since a little lass. Her love for words led her to teaching & translating, her love for art & water to poetry…please find her pieces @ The Ekphrastic Review (plus Podcast & translations), First Lit.Review-East, GrandLittleThings, The Metaworker, The Weekly/Five South, New Feathers, Poetry Barn, Poetry Distillery a.o. Her recent Insta reads: : https://www.instagram.com/kate.copeland.poems/ Over the years Kate has volunteered at literary festivals and is now assisting Lisa Freedman with Breathe-Read-Write workshops. She was born @ Rotterdam some 53 ages ago and adores housesitting @ the world.