Monday, August 17, 2009

Sadness and Joy Do Their Usual Dance

It's Sunday
I walk...feeling vaguely forlorn, yet hopeful
The gentleness of a breeze and of birds helps
There is no one else
The stringed banner flags flap indifferently above the car lot
Sadness and joy do their usual dance
I am the floor that they dance on
I don't know how much more of this I can take
Oh, but everyone is taking this
So I'll stop complaining

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