Follow the mother holding her child’s hand
through the Red Light District.
Smile at the working girls
dressing rose-colored windows.
Spend an afternoon in a coffeeshop
with an Englishman named Bob
and a joint called ‘Cheese’.
Order a jenever──
remember to bend and sip
before picking it up.
Stand aside for an army of bicyclists;
they have the right-of-way.
Observe ancient church rituals
older than the promise of the New World.
Tour the Anne Frank House
and marvel at the unbeatable tenacity
of creation.
Drop by The Book Exchange:
donate one well-read;
leave with a promising new companion.
Traverse the canals at dusk
with fellow travelers you have never met.
Break the provincial bread;
indulge the chocolates, frites, beers, cheeses.
Try the soused herring.
Tell a self-deprecating joke
about American tourists──
their laughter is your passport.
Everybody speaks English,
but you curry favor
with your fumbling attempts at Dutch.
Wander without a destination
through the cobble-stoned
City Centrum district.
Languish at midnight
in your third-story bedroom window
and behold a city that has exorcised
the demons of puritan austerity,
suffered and bled for it,
and emerged a wise
and mischievous
soul.
**First published in Beyond Words Literary Magazine
**Illustration by Morgane Xenos
