Poem by Vincent Vanden Bogaard

I was almost tricked.

Blurred in memories:

without remembering,

fooled by the sunsetting day,

slowly mixing its grapes

and its citrus fruits.

Me,

escaping the dream?

End of the night?

New ventures coming.

Looking at the window.

Wide open eyes,

blossoming lids,

black rounded pupils

reflecting as glass shards.

Frowning

with my vision getting clearer.

Sun beams hitting my face,

slapping my retina.

Experiencing,

the early spring razor rays.

Touched by thousands

warming finger tips.

Squeezing the essence

and the juicy mixture:

absorbing the pulp.

A stinging taste on my tongue.

Green and orange leaves.

Jonquils and Vrieseas shades.

Melting atmosphere,

all around me,

bringing me delight

and odd satisfaction.

With no explanation,

I was fixing horizon.

My body emerging

from a colourful silence.

Liquid light bathing.

I was losing myself.