Saturday, July 12, 2014

Saturday commute cxi: refuge of our ferment

Our friend is waiting outside
his dorm or his corner library,
for his ride to collect him to
join some people in some warm-
er place. He lacks composure.
But this is not indicated in
his ink, his drooping braces,
his urban leather amulets, his
cowering in windy corners, his
slovenly misuse of his pockets.

It is manifested in the marvel
he inhabits and projects, play.
We have no doubt, he'll be met.

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