My first trip to Europe was yellow.
Though I dove headfirst into its waters,
Caution rose me to the surface, gasping for air.
Germany to me a grey forest,
Where trees stood as cobblestone homes,
And needles underfoot had two wheels and a warning bell.
Balconies dripped new sounds onto me as I passed underneath,
Drenching my coat in foreign tongue, though I was not wet with it.
My first comfort was found in music,
When English words blanketed hazy pubs and pink evenings.
I drug my suitcase in search of city hues,
But still felt longing for nature’s orange.
A sunset in Berlin shared with me both.
When not selling wedding dresses or walking shelter dogs, Christine can be found in the local coffee shop, a warm mug in hand and her laptop open. Most of her inspiration comes from traveling; one of her biggest passions. Her experiences from traveling European countries trickle into many of her pieces, including poetry and short stories. She currently lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan with her husband, John and her black cat, Theodore.