orgami's Diaryland Diary

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ten bolt pattern

wind wears
cold and drawn fast
and above the tall
poles and swayback
wire

the white birds
cling underneath
grey millenium

walk with a rythymn
in time to certian
uncertianty

buses thunder pass
the blue and white
herd
their steady traffic

full of ghost faces
on the wet glass
eyes searching
out
eyes looking in

and the rain looks
like it may hold
away for the matter
of the now

collected in sharp
pockets in pavement
deep

fossils of passage
carved out and
thrown up by the
rubber feet
of the great stampede...

3:07 p.m. - 2010-11-22

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