"The American Girl"

The American Girl

[a poem inspired by my first impression of Amsterdam, and borne of the necessity  of submitting something for my creative writing workshop in order to pass the class]

The air is frantic, flying haphazardly,

And loose ends of a stranger’s scarf

Lick the bright round cheeks of

The American girl.

All is music outside Grand Central Station.

Bicycle bells, rumbling busses, and boots

On cobblestone- an organic symphony

To accompany the cacophonous choir of voices.

Every accent imaginable rings out, and

The furious wind delivers each dialect

Directly to those American ears

In a boisterous melody.

Wide eyes memorize the towers,

The bricks, the turrets, the history. 

A surreal setting, a fairytale scene

Come alive not in pages but in panorama.

Centuries-old buildings settle themselves

Into the scene, lending the city an air of old

Regality, and stealing unbelieving laughter

From speechless American lips.

Caught in a cyclone of culture

Suspended between the new and the known,

The world will never look the same to

The American girl.

And here's a look at you're truly, fully embracing the "American" stereotype while in the epicenter of European sophistication...

I definitely blended in.
Totally natural.
Not tourist-y at all.