January 19, 2013

watching the dough rise, with riesling in hand

photo by Carl Mydans ©

looking out my window

I see you standing
at the bus stop
a world going by
one car at a time
they do not want to know
why, every step
we take is
a journey too
or whether
we walk with
our eyes as noses
or we press the wind
as if it were glass
and we were inside
they seem not to care
why time takes us
past the present
to a future
never meant
to be just a ride


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