Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Conversations at Starbucks

Light sits on yellow
The color of burning
Burning burning
Mix the swirls and brown pine
The color of soft light

In the great masses of grey sound
That gather outside the glass
Can you hear it?

All I hear is the soft sound
Of voices talking about the
Latest magazines
Discuss the latest tolls

Wipe your hand across your mouth and laugh
The world revolves like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots

Wind you said
All I want is the wind in my face
No strings to attach or tie me to a place
I feel.
I feel that here
Here I can be anything.
Nothing to lose is nothing to gain
To hold me back
Is nothing to make me stay
Our gift of life is through truly dying
We are community
The weight is a gift.

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