pmh
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5/30/2006 6:30:47 PM
trident's dark roast
sipping and watching
all the fleeting pretty faces
(painted-over morning grumpiness)
who are missing the wonderful red rise of
the wednesday morning sun
over the harbour -
but the girl at table ahead
with pen to paper who stares intently
at those whispy clouds, that
bit of brightening sky above the brick,
smiles to herself and her early coffee,
and the sour faces painted pretty in sour
suits grumble to their sour associates.
i hope they are happier at home.
i read Trungpa's pomes for breakfast.
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