COLD AIR

A cast iron sky stretched over uneven buildings

and streets where hats tip low and mannequins

resemble the living.

 

Quiet thoughts trouble the air.  Words

twist through the procession of long coats and

cigarette smoke while the hard walk of work

shoes demands a path.

 

Shadows in corners whisper.  Curtains hold onto

voices, sharing secrets and idle nothings.

 

The winds improve with strength.  Hats lift and

hands find pockets; cold air cleanses

the street.

 

 

 

 

 

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