subway poem 1
the man across from me has his hand on his lap
below the front of his jacket. he is wittling something, it seems
yes, something intricate and hidden.
3 thoughts on "subway poem 1"
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“new york, new york, big city of dreams….”
we used to have that same whittler haunt the sidewalks outside our old bookstore….
ha! oh ron
Great poem, Serena!