blOgbuefi

writing to know, knowing thru being, being for writing... this is me, writing about the one thing i know, which is myself... and even that is sometimes a mystery...

Friday, July 22, 2005

a friday poem

the car after a night in the garage.
cool wind shifting
thru open windows.
the humid summer air
approaching
encroaching
warming
heating
your bubble of cool wind,
your car,
as you drive thru the streets of your neighborhood,
you're happy
and feeling like home.

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