16 February 2012

Stream of Conscience

I drove, willing my thoughts to be absent,
noticed you in loose clothes, a smudged white t-shirt—
like the one you get for donating blood,
only, maybe ten years ago.
I was about to make a mental note about your life,
and its hardship, when you yawned.
I yawned, too, swallowed my thought, and continued driving. 

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