Miscalculation

bus

Gray

the morning

ripped apart

by long, thin

read – nailed fingers,

scratching

the sleeping sky

until

golden rivulets

reach the earth

warming

the little children

standing

all alone on the corner

waiting

for the lethargic

loping, yellow beast,

shuttling them protectively,

carrying them

to the playground

above the gray horizon

which quickly fades

when night begins to fall.

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