on telegraph
whisps of shutterfly morning
whoosh of metro overground

you don't notice
until you do
, but we are never colorblind,

and my movement with the pavement
too jerky stops, too

stern, that pastel background of
ships on a distance
everyman's shore

the building tribune
stakes through that placidity
as i stake my ground

you are
you
are the moment

you are that whisp, that wonder, that breath
you are the long shore home.