“What a better way to understand one another in this world but by the glimmering sparkle that unites us in this lighthouse?”
These are beautiful words from the editors of the Poetry Lighthouse (London, UK). My poem Asphalt found a wonderful home at this creative writing community, in their September issue.
They made some edits to my poem, which I really love. That’s one of the many interesting aspects of publishing in literary magazines: you get a different perspective on your own work.
That, and the heartfelt compliments. This is what the editorial team wrote upon acceptance: “Amid so many wonderful voices, your work stood out to our editors for its compelling imagery, emotional depth, and skillful craftsmanship—which aligns beautifully with the spirit of our literary style.”
Asphalt
I followed the factory spills, the fumes
of Diesel cars banned from the city center
that gathered in carpool parking lots
like civil servants at a fire drill.
I followed the pushy cabs, and the bass notes
of a local cover band’s soundcheck
five men with a midlife crisis,
playing the same setlist
every week, for the last twenty years.
What I found was a spring afternoon,
stretching on the asphalt like a lazy cat
warmth crawling under my winter clothes.
Yawning bar staff fighting the remains
of a wild Friday night with brown soap
strong arms reaching for full beer barrels.
Ice cubes clinking in a cocktail glass
clear as a wind chime on a summer’s day
and the waiter who winked at me, saying
“it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
And it hit me
not for the first time, how this city
is an old friend with whom contact faded,
but who embraces me without hesitation
every time we meet, by accident.
© Leen Raats, first published by The Poetry Lighthouse
Leen writes 
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