Foggy windows in the soup kitchen

creeping up the edges of the glass

Slick black pavement outside

All the people crowd around the warmth

Indian tastes alert my toungue 

As the warmth flows through me

My headphones rest on the table

I watch silently instead 

Babies have an alliance as do their parents

Talking about growing and personalities

A waiter jumps to wipe down another table

Proud of you, pride of you 

The black outline of redwoods

Under the fog and mist that paints the sky

The warm soup kitchen waits with open arms

Swarming voices 

Add to the fog on the windows

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s