382 de La Rochefoucaud

Anthony wakes up early on a Saturday morning,
Hears the calling of the birds.
But senses the fall waiting for him
at the other end of his coffee cup.

Getting to work and taking the metro.
Faking enthusiasm for the route ahead
He leans over crowded seats,
Breaking his promise not to make eye contact.

His pace is hesitating
As he sits himself down.

Walking into a bar to date a woman.
He’s had to come far,
And perhaps this is fate.
Forget about the songs of love and hate,
And celebrate the union of
this very Universality.

 

 

 

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