looking out over the small
factory town,
you can
see the lights, one by one,
going on.
like fireflies.
you can see the smoke
in the chimneys
for the morning fire.
perhaps coffee is made,
breakfast of some
sort served
at a small table as men
and women ready themselves
for work,
the kids are up,
the dog is in the yard.
the rising sun begins to
light up the world.
it seems that no one
is different,
though each life is rare.
No comments:
Post a Comment