On Amsterdam

By Gerald Solomon

Rackety Amsterdam, a market stall,
old disused books, two guys at chess.
Heedless of rain and passers by,
making and working their puzzle.
Leaning head to head, nothing said.

Rain shower, green awnings, wet canvas!
Every raindrop a bright sky loosening
from rims, becoming nothing.
Two men, a pastime of white and black,
plastic knights to parley and destroy.

Crowds, cars, vans, all in a mass
cram forward, push on, while
two men old enough to know
a slow game’s best for here and now,
a lifetime to comprehend the puzzle.

Computers crunch numbers,
grand masters turn down their kings.
Tangles of meaning― talking,
to get to the right end, one loses the end.
Words, keys to brass locks of words.

That rage for order beyond order!
One, though, (since nothing means nothing,)
one… number of strangeness, awe,
beginning of nothing beginning…
Beginning the end of the matter.

Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing