A blink of pain sets the course

for the day, after a night of

chasing dreams.

Outside, the city is covered in a

wardrobe of clouds; pearl white

and dusk of gray. Below the

sidewalk lifted up a degree of

voices.  Some loud, others a

minnow of words slipping through.

A small bucket of sunlight spills

across the street.  A harvest

of motion and steam fills

the air.  Shadow art constantly

changes as the motion of legs

resembles light through spokes.

I prepare  for work.  Watering

my thoughts to grow into words.


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