a thousand hurtling tons
of iron, rubber, glass,
and biscuits with coffee to-go
stoppedto let a dude on skateboard
thread the stripes
across six lanes,
grinning.
← | index | →
Writing pages of drafts, I lost the fun of the original incident. I'd felt joy at some kind of miracle -- like Elisha crossing the river on dry land -- but in all those pages, I couldn't define it. This morning, I put all the notes aside and wrote this haiku-like sentence on the back of an envelope. - WSS
No comments:
Post a Comment