Saturday, October 1, 2016

Lotus Blossom


Not white exactly

But something between
Fluorescent green
And mustard
Yellow

It sits there
Growling
Formula One
Through and through
While its owner
Flirts with the barista

Each wheel has its
Own tire size
One way
No rotating to save
Money or time

Why he leaves it
Running
I don't
Know

Maybe he wants me
To jump in and drive
Away
To be off on a surprise
Visit
To the here and now
A place I never go

Maybe it never turns
Off
But is always
Watching

It doesn't
Flinch
When a passing
Raven
Shits
On the
Hood

Its shadow
Passing through
The strip mall
Like a ghost

The owner
Rubs out the fresh
Deposit
With his silk sleeve
And all is again
And forever
Right with this
World


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