North, away from the
shredded ice and flying shards
that threaten to bring down
the walls of glass enclosing
A distant voice pleads attention
for the songs within the words
unobtrusive on the rain-misted wind
that pelts the eyes with sandy grains
No bother at all, indeed implore
and take a promise to wait in line again
with the obsessive-compulsive habits
and the narcoleptic fits
A 2-word clue, simple reminder
to speed things up
seen as a chance sighting
upon the midnight air
And still the traveler doesn't know
this voice has sung once more

04/15/2002

Posted on 04/15/2002
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