wandering alone,
stupid and content
this straight road
taken so many times
still I do not know
Honeycomb dawn
the light is still
waking up. Yawn
of a dusty wind,
warmed by stone
moves through me;
I shiver in happiness
the town unfolds
A painted blue gate, white house,
the garden a cloud of roses
murmuring from open windows
t.v. or tune,
I do not know
The town begins
to talk
to itself
men and women
gather on its corners
Outside shops, a bakery,
gathering threads
of faraway news.
What they wove
I do not know
