well it is a new day
the first day
beginning of the end.
and the rest of us stay
stuck in our ruts
our thoughts
trained,
wrecked.
i walked around down town,
surrounded myself with afternoon sounds and traffic.
gray sky, pulsing light
imprints the corneas
too bright. too bright.
pigeons flock,
stream,
turn on wing
and swallow the wind
all follow the bend
of one invisible thing.
steps echo towards the end
deserted road
streaming fountain
they drink, they all stand
they weep, they all think
with one mind
hearts beat in one strand
or unbroken heat.
fly and turn
one bird.