Monday, November 23, 2009

The Yellow Windows of the Evening Train

The day was passing class by class;
mind filled with Hawthorne and Gibbs.
It was rather prosaic a fall afternoon,
but for the door that opened to me.

Dark brown hair dangled freely,
a frame housing lovely features.
Exquisite to behold, quite the dame,
these are words that go together well.

But for such a rare moment,
it was not unlike any other day.

No comments:

Post a Comment