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On Waiting for a Bus on the Lower East Side

December 21, 2012
in flight

in flight

Sometimes
I am lithe, lean and sun bronzed,
running surely over green landscapes
arriving at the vista where the world lies sunlit
and newborn before me.

Sometimes
I am dark wings born of fire,
trailing sparks
coursing through vibrant blue skies
towards a soft, dusky horizon.

Sometimes
I stand and watch the man across the street
piss into the potted plant.

Is he too
all of these things?

I am afraid to ask.

All photos and writing on this blog copyright J.A. Siderius

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