Swell Time

Moving forward, just not sure where we're going, but at least we're having a swell time when we do it.

Coffee

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On my walk,

I see a beautiful wall

There is a painting on the wall, a woman staring at the sun

A bush

That in the spring blooms the most beautiful pink flowers.

The entrance of the park.

Most days, I am alone.

I don’t see anyone else.

Occasionally a man shows up.

He drives a white van

And he has coffee to hand out to people.

And I always wonder,

Who he gives the coffee to.

Invisible

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This entry was posted on March 21, 2018 by in poem, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , .
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