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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