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Thursday, July 15, 2010

The pauper with a dime, reaped by toil sweat and grime

a kaleidoscope mind, violent storms clash and grind

shuffling down on faithless streets, descries

murmuring purses from a window seat.

An eternity of jostling and bargains

a sudden recklessness

a jolt of surprise

back to the cold damp asphalt

trembling in delight and trepidation at

the ornate but empty purse now caressing his skin.

Another day, another day. Maybe another hard-earned dime. 



Wenky
11:59 PM
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