Gray coming from gray
Pigeon abandons cobblestone
In sudden flutter
A scarf tilts in the breeze
White with roses
A woman sits, waiting
The jingle of money
A child plays violin alone
Pennies in his hat
How sad –
Gold relics sit in the sun
Only tourists want them
A bird cries
Beside a blue bicycle
It will not be still
Summer is here
The rich have emerged from their caves
They dine like animals
Pigeon abandons cobblestone
In sudden flutter
A scarf tilts in the breeze
White with roses
A woman sits, waiting
The jingle of money
A child plays violin alone
Pennies in his hat
How sad –
Gold relics sit in the sun
Only tourists want them
A bird cries
Beside a blue bicycle
It will not be still
Summer is here
The rich have emerged from their caves
They dine like animals
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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