marchin like a lioness
chilly an windy
table an bench
in the sun
against a wall
beyond the breeze
pencil an eraserhead
listening to democracy now, nyc
radioactivity, tampa bay
and afternoon winds
drawing in reverie
without a care
save for the wondrous play
of light and shade
waiting to be seen and loved
by anyone with time and a dream
of drawing
a magical scene
