Sunday, February 9, 2020

[a wooden bench]



      ***


Sharp shadows cut deep smiles in the glow
of those nesting on a wooden bench,
a lathe-shaped wooden leg
like a pirate ballerina's
props the lush scarves and potted greens.
Each a coffee and a cigarette,
a medicine man and a fado singer,
and the sun that has welled up for days.





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