Narrow tendrils ascend from chimneys,
grackles cobble rooftops. The driven
wrap a custodial scarf around their necks,
warm their cars, push ahead
to the day’s interchange. Paychecks ahead.
The rest roll into the languid language
of coffee, cereal rained into bowls.
Later, the nozzle widens to the bounty
of morning television, social media.
Or a book opens, and the day is wanton
with words, gunfired, molten.
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2 comments:
It's raining cereal! Love it!
Love the way you paint!
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