In spring, the Tabebuias bloom,
a chirpy yellow and soft pink
And I wonder if it makes
everyone stop as I do,
to admire and breathe in
the mood, there is transference
It is just a brisk walk from home
to the square, you’ll know it
from the gothic appeal and romance,
the still people on horses.
Through the decorated underbridge,
I’d turn right after the Bansky-esque peace sign
And after the plant nursery, the caretaker
gives his customary hello, sometimes I
buy the orange Tulips, birthday greetings to myself
being my own superhero of happiness
The lazy stretches in sugarcane fields of childhood,
were the only competition
these park benches showered
with rich blooms. Taylor Swift on my headphones
says it’s Sad, beautiful and tragic and I agree
my mind observes calm
After that you come home to
inevitable shift, thanks to
the TV in the noisy living,
there’s a Mr. Donald blowing his trumpets
with all the turbulence around,
I eat my chocolate cereal with milk
in solitude
I wish my beanstalk would
grow as high as Jack’s
I would probably avoid the monsters above too
hiding between the clouds,
I’d carry seeds of the blooms too
Or the sundress that reminds me of
And catch the unicorns riding the rainbow
Maybe I’d find my cure.