Tuesday, April 28, 2009

A note of day, of birds, of speech

Here I stand, rather sit
sprawled out 'pon this here bench
mind rocked forth gaily
by chattering freinds and birds
I wait a while, as teh blue nestles
the clouds wanting, lacking naught
a leaf curled, fallen to the ground
my attention lost, though here found
a new amusement, a flies buzzing
a moths happy fluttering
coarse, white, momentary wings
to and fro civilians rushing
an instants peace away from the bustle. 

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