the coffee steam is not just steam,
but a ghost of the old wood,
where a thought, not yet a thought,
was a low branch and a quiet mood.
the hand that grips the steering wheel
is a fist that once knew knuckle-walk,
that held a stone, and knew the feel
of a termite mound on a evening stalk.
......
the coffee steam is not just steam,
but a ghost of the old wood,
where a thought, not yet a thought,
was a low branch and a quiet mood.
the hand that grips the steering wheel
is a fist that once knew knuckle-walk,
that held a stone, and knew the feel
of a termite mound on a evening stalk.
......