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I was three years old and I stepped up into the streetcar while they thought I was taking a bath where I sat next to a lady who smelled like raspberries. Instead, she smiled like a macaroon. “I’m going to find my mother,” I said. “Jing! Jing!” said the bell. The conductor knew where he would be going, how could he fail, set like intention on that shining, parallel window-bar? They asked me my name and I knew. Trees and houses, gutters, motorcycles and cars. So on ever since with never a stop.
Confirmed with Elizabeth Glaze Searle's website, https://andrewglazepoetry.com/2018/01/16/new-poem/ [external site]
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 13
Word count: 93
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