Monday, July 26, 2010


I’m walking walking -
barriers of bruised plastic
line the street
it’s growing late
everything aches
pavement unyielding
a cold wind stirring
in the gray intersection
of the smell of concrete
and impending nightfall -
no fear no self pity
just weary not thinking
when from my heart
I call your name
once twice
again again
and engine singing
there you are
there you are

2 comments:

George Wyche said...

the bus?

linda said...

ha -
well I was heading for BART by the time I got weary. Before that, walking around the lake was the whole point of the Sunday afternoon. Fuel would've helped, but didn't see any open food places.