I dive
from my second story apartment
into what appears to be a stream
swollen by Saturday.
People buying orange bags of candy and
light weight coats.
Swimming upstream, I enter through
a long row of bright red mechanical doors
who courteously open for me as I approach
I pause to thank them, then pause again
as I'm not sure about the morays
pertaining to manners toward
electronics.
1 comment:
Even though I am your father, and perhaps not the most objective observer, I enjoy and am challenged by your poetry and look forward to new postings every week. Keep up the good writing.
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