The place

Juan Carlo Rodríguez
May 20 · 1 min read

There’s a place I own.

I haven’t bought it, nor stolen.

It was just… there. And I took it.

I can’t really describe it, because

everytime I go there, it changes.

Today there’s a huge lake, with ducks,

and swans, and darters, and cormorants,

and egrets, and moorhen. Oh, and turtles.

Yesterday, there was a couch and a balcony.

Today, clear skies, oh so hot, which

I kind of appreciate, since it calls the skin

to come out and play.

I’m not alone in my place, but I am on my own.

Because all the eyes I see, don’t see me.

Or not really; I’m just a shape on a bench.

I’m not really here, anyway. I’m just

trying not to be anywhere else.

But I came here today to harvest some calm.

Seems like a scarce commodity elsewhere.

My place has a healthy stock today.

I seek to share it with the people I love,

go beyond the cliché of “everything will be ok”.

I want them to be ok.

In the meantime, I send some love on the express lane,

some hope in express mail,

and pray.

Tomorrow my place will change again.

But always mine to go to.

I find comfort in that.

The New North

// Home of storytellers // Facebook: @thenewnorth

Juan Carlo Rodríguez

Written by

Periodista venezolano. Lucho por encontrar equilibrio en un mundo desequilibrado. / Venezuelan journalist, struggling to find balance in an unbalanced world.

The New North

// Home of storytellers // Facebook: @thenewnorth

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