Sun dancing on a silver can,
a man, sitting alone on a park bench on a cold evening,
remembers when he was twenty years old and was chased by the girls.
A cat, not having eaten in three days,
finds a piece of fried chicken behind a tall building.
It eats quickly, as
the sun sets and the light drains away.
The departing sun leaves the sounds of the day to become muted
and allows the sounds of night to grow.
No more children’s voices,
now car horns and conversations fill the streets.
A lamp is lit in a window
and the oak tree that has grown on this street for sixty years
shading this old park bench, is lit up.
The old man slowly raises himself from his seat,
his dreaming ended.
He wanders home to the lonely room he rents
in a building full of people
whose dreams look just like his.
Reblogged this on boofey2010.
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