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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Cultural >> ID #947052 |   |
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The Gathering The steady drum of talking Filled the commons of Fondren Place The thirty-somethings were ganging Slowing down the interminable race They hang out there by choice Over snacks of organic sprouts and teas A cacophony of techno and Instant Messaging Stirred into a cultural potpourri I’m lost in this phenomenal banter A relic of times long gone by For they do not acknowledge my presence And I know that I need not apply
© Copyright 2005 Writer of the Winds (UN: caracas at Writing.Com).
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