music ricochets off the stone wall
thumping like mathematics on the playground
smoke peeks through her hair
finding no solace
among far too many lonely afternoons
roads wait to be paved
old men wait for the news
dogs circle their favorite spots
the kid still thinks there’s a future
but his mom is tired
and the shadows have grown long
there’s still tomorrow for now
and if we’re lucky
we’re dancing on the inside
The Word Rummager 
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