Sunday, April 3, 2011

Debussy

he doesn’t look at you

just stares into distance
fingering his coffee
and muses about

the beauty of mist in the streets
or the shape of clouds against pale blue
or the way sun reflects off hair
-----------of pretty girl across street

and you are entranced by the soft intensity of his voice
not wanting to interrupt lest you ruin the
-----------magical mood
he has created with sighs so soft and subtle

and nothing looks the same afterwards

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