Poem: Bremen

A city sometimes unexpectedly charms me, feeling as comfortable as an old sweater.


Each trip to see some small part of the world
    is a surprise, not in what is expected,
    that’s always well enough researched
One knows Amsterdam before ever going and
    is charmed, beguiled, whisked along
    in a state of rapture,
    but seldom surprised

It’s the unexpected that’s the wonder for me
On my way from known Berlin, my mind full
of anticipated  Dutch canals, I was
    impatient with Bremen in my way
A dirty, bustling port-city no doubt,
    merely a blister on the map of Germany,
    stealing away motorcycle-time on the road

It’s old city center, all six centuries of it,
    flower marketed and vegetable stalled,
    nooked and crannied with a human scale  
    upon which architecture has long turned its back
    It holds me there, fascinating and
    begs me stay an extra day
And so I do, taking the luxury so simply offered

The old central winding park steals away my afternoon,
    taken deftly by gabbling ducks and dappled shade,
    feeling I was born here, lived some other life
     among these homes I know and don’t know why
This for me is the charm of travel, its pull
    to the livable unknown, caught unaware
    in a place, with choice I would have spent a life
Poetry Collection: Broken Pieces
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection
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