Poem: Stop and Go

Stop and Go

Your eye settles on an uncluttered spot on your desk,
the intersection of drawer and cubby,
a place not designed for peace, and yet
here you are savoring the wood grain
and the tiny alabaster box.

It was a gift, that box, from Saint Petersburg.
Your sister brought it after one of her journeys,
You have a collection of them, these tiny boxes,
each a reminder of places yet to go,
not just cities, but places of the heart, of the soul,
all of them able, all of them as eager to travel
as your body and mind.

This is one of your strangenesses,
that mix of restlessness and a hunger for peace,
the ability to find that peace in odd spots
where ever you may be.

About this poem

The picture was taken of the one uncluttered spot on my desk.

My sister, who loves to travel, often brings me small boxes from where ever she has been. The one in the picture is not really the one she brought me from Saint Petersburg, but Saint Petersburg flowed off the tongue better than where it actually came from, and brings better images.


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