the confirming corner, open arms, and an ear
The pebbles contain sounds, torrent of lights
This pattern in silence is crystal clear
With scattering thoughts in the midst of the crowd
the joker within the deck seeks for plain float
The humm of the timely space cannot be heard
as the laughter corresponds, the riddle gets old
Between reason and purpose there stretches a line,
though we don't always traverse it
Basketball shoes, flip-flops, barefeet are fine
it's over here with the coffee we sit
