Jan 27
1 min read
the walk through the city
And half of the Jazz
when one carries ancient planks of wood
one often holds the future
when children stop from play to look
they prove they’re really children
when the tiniest things make the biggest splash
then men learn to rule the waves
yet none of this stops a single storm
though few ever bow their heads
for the deadest seas … are older than life
and the wettest deserts … still thirsty
and even a…
