top of page

Amsterdam



It was like no hotel room I'd ever been in before

Too quaint

Too nice

Too much history

The wooden dresser

Polished by hand and by age

Instead of machine

I was uncomfortable as I sat in the quiet

Outside my window I watched the water dance in the canal

As dusk drew darker a string of lights popped on

Illuminating what was once old Europe

And I grew sad



bottom of page