IT WAS A TIME OF SENSE
I made millions making nothing; the
tired birds were singing in the sky, the
lark larked and the wren wren'd. Or
whatever they do. High overhead, a
jet or two tore open the sky, drawing
like a pen-mark a white strip in the
blue. I barely changed my pose in
looking up. By the fence, two girls
were talking about something -
funny, by the way they were
laughing. A broad and effusive
boredom seemed the order
of the day. I knew not why,
but just went on.
tired birds were singing in the sky, the
lark larked and the wren wren'd. Or
whatever they do. High overhead, a
jet or two tore open the sky, drawing
like a pen-mark a white strip in the
blue. I barely changed my pose in
looking up. By the fence, two girls
were talking about something -
funny, by the way they were
laughing. A broad and effusive
boredom seemed the order
of the day. I knew not why,
but just went on.
No comments:
Post a Comment