Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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I stand before the curtain
that hides my heart
tokens in hand, weary
from coming here, walking
the boundaries, boulevards
shaded streets, descending
to the sea, teasing out
my thoughts to some intent
shall I, hesitant to change
rather, retire into metaphor
a green curtain for a door
veils of rain, blur, sweep
a gray plain, wet expanse
opening from my balcony.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    January 14, 2011
    Over Costa Rica