A sigh, perhaps;
Even a motor
Can sound contemplative
When all that is behind it
Is the susurration
Of a vent shaft
Or the
Plaint
Of an idling bus
All i listen for
Is contained
Within symphonies
Of metal and stone
All i hear
Breathes
Against a quilt of night
And dreams
Of tomorrow's
Exhaust.
--Mr. Gobley
