a free and easy wind wafts past me;
i nod, i paid already.

it's costing others plenty, i can tell;

collars zipped-up keeping sunshine in,
hooded Cowboy's work-out jerseys, limp.

stiffened by Christmas bills, bad grades;
the future awaiting with it's cold scythe

slicing thoughts and dreams for scrutiny;
bury one, eat one, reviving the others.

a baby's head bobbing in a backward cradle
of mama's breasts and arms, talking: lay low.

the wind turns it's soft shoulder toward
the two and causes the lights to change.

she must have paid too, i can tell.

12/13/2007

Posted on 12/13/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan