upon a sunlit glance
in the mirror one morning
he looked the part
of the aging artist,
mussed hair thinning
and a jagged beard.
his mind wandered to
overturned crates
serving as bookshelves.
rough hewn coffers
of a literary stash.
cheap beer, incense and
the smell of old pages.
so natural.
in the mirror one morning
he looked the part
of the aging artist,
mussed hair thinning
and a jagged beard.
his mind wandered to
overturned crates
serving as bookshelves.
rough hewn coffers
of a literary stash.
cheap beer, incense and
the smell of old pages.
so natural.
