at spaces between faces—
old man on the bus
A small hatless man
with his hands crammed in his coatwalking in the wind
Faces red as wine
they drink in stiff-collared shirtsin the noisy bar
*
Thousand mirror ball
shines on the wooden floor—waiting for the dance
Soft dry clonking tones
of some ancient bamboo chimesdancing in the wind
Two stout little birds
twittering at each otheron a windy wire
*
A lone puff of cloud
changing faces as it roams
an empty Spring sky
The steel rails hissing
after the train rolls away—I start my walk home
All this artistry
carves beautiful curlicuesin the shifting wind
.
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