SAM HOOKER
At 6am, I wander in; an aimless
and dishevelled soul. I'll call
myself Sam, Sam Hooker, for
now. I work from memory. The
girl I know on these mornings,
always here, prepares a table
before me. Same spread of
nothing : coffee, and that's it.
To watch the new light arise.
To watch the sun come up.
To see the street lighten again.
Garbage trucks and food delivery.
A few of the same out walking
their daily dogs : the silent nod;
the wave. I love it all.
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