#620-Elsewhere
12/04/2019
Rising,
Like a sun.
Brightening a dreary sidewalk,
At dawn.
Many pass by.
Few look up.
Perhaps a trace,
Of spring’s perfume,
Reaches distracted minds.
What’s that?
He wonders in a trance.
Hurried steps,
The same space,
Desk and screen.
Hours bartered,
To perhaps one day,
Reach those dreams.
