Monday, January 13, 2014


I sit again in solitude within
the basement teachers’ cafeteria,
deserted as the school day draws to an end.

There’s silence, but for one incessant hum –
a sound that's coming from a hidden source
that surely is a pump or fan at work...

In part, it’s soothing, like a waterfall;
in part, it’s not – a distant, manic whine.


There’s action in a life.  There’s also rest.
And both are needed for a balance sane.
Yet humans now must speed, like swift machines.

Our flesh and spirit can’t endure this race.
And so, like water in an oasis,
this quietude can slake a wanderer’s thirst.

And yet, there is this hum – that’s water, while
it’s whistling wind, with grit of blowing sand.

2014 January 13th, Mon.
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn

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