A man watches the world.
He looks intense, standing still, he is aware.
He looks at every movement before him.
He reads the signs of the day, he has not moved.
There is an internal stillness, he is waiting, patiently, standing watch.
***
Your thoughts fall like golden oak leaves.
Like golden rain they carpet the ground beneath my feet.
I pick them up and use them.
I paste them on the line with wooden pins.

badaba

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Words & Graphics by Tomas