A Venture Down 6th Street

Doors sway open

Like sheets in high winds

Hair blown askew, lovely ladies pass

The howl is heightened to levels

Where normal conversation is in vain

Garbage floats and whirls down the street

Followed swiftly by a cap

Which, in turn, is followed by a red-faced college punk

It’s bitter, cold, damp

And the rains will ensue

Leaving little time for procrastination

Slow is the fool

And haste is paramount

Daydreams scattered, not soon to return

Destination is the grail coveted, now

© D J Loweman 2014



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