#620-Elsewhere

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.