114 frontage rd

i watched a long strip
of plastic wrapping
sway as if possessed
a wind driven
translucent cobra
cowl flared
snapping listlessly
in the misting rain

two blocks later
i sat happily as
two geese waddled
across the cross walk
comically regal
as the cars honked
behind me

the voices in my head
are a constant
cacophony of woe
but occasionally
they quiet long enough
to see instances of
momentary beauty
and those are what
keep me going daily
the glimpses of wonder
lost in concrete tombs

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