Monday, August 28, 2006

POEM: Cleaning His Glasses

He cleaned his glasses,
and then everything seemed special.
It was strange how easy it was.
Just a small act
like spraying his glasses
and wiping them
with a white paper towel
made his whole world
suddenly seem surprising.
The cup on the counter
looked like a precious museum piece,
and the pencils on his desk
were models of flawless construction.
He walked across the carpet
like a king. He looked
out the window
at a world that never ends.

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