what more can i say about this?
is there anything more to say?
do i have to say anything anyway?
oh, my busy little mind keeps
up a running string of chatter,
color commentary to the game
of life. it could learn a lot from
listening to the silence of trees,
wind in leaves, infrequent creak.
but maybe trees have
their own worries.
there comes a time in doe
cafe between breakfast and dinner
when the sun crosses the crown
of the roof and shines through
the west skylight down onto
cash register and floral bouquet.
john's gilt frame glows and the
flowers are bright against the
dark wood walls. my mind goes
empty for just a moment and i
sway a li'l bit, pull camera from
pocket, the buzz of an insect.