Incessantly beeps away. The crowd flows Like a brook. A tiger sleeps Restlessly in my den. Quietly I prepare, And flee to my future. A tiny ant Crawls across the red. The red pattern: sideways; Red and white on brown. The wind gusts and Paper and plastic slide. Travel over the red Like distorted birds. The steps of feet; Thousands pass by. A sound that I know All too familiarly. |