Thursday morning –
a reticent dawn hauls
in a wandering chill from the north,
surprised clouds –
a seedling-sun drools over the humming road
rhythm of a weekday –
minutes and hours in a resplendent
parade – camaraderie of a half-done
afternoon and the
sun steered into
a tired road and dusty dogs –
street corners crouching beneath sweaty
heaving tires of school buses –
Thursday – today – will walk
away – from the road –
the dogs –
my life –
Will the sun grow into a
tree?
Seb said:
I love all the little internal rhymes and the B-lines in this. Very cool!
mj said:
Glad you like this… I wasn’t too sure about it.