Dazzled

Am I alone in this? That morning
after evening after morning, stepping
to shops, arcades, parks, alleyways,
I feel (again, again, again) the huge
continuing story of a market town
(like a child re-reading Chapter One
in a loved and much-remembered book)?
That I am dazzled (still) by its wondrousness?

Robert Nisbet

If you have any comments on this poem, Robert Nisbet would be pleased to hear from you.