Sketches
I saw sketches in the museum,
I saw sketches under the street lights,
I walked by the closed shops…
There in the windows… sketches,
I looked toward the park, there under the lamppost… sketches,
I thought of my life…
There were sketches of happiness…
I perceived sketches of gloom,
There were sketches of optimism…
The past was filled with sketches…
All diverse in their own way,
Yes sketches of memory,
I looked into a pale reflection…
A reflection from a dirty dim window…
I saw the outline of my face…
A sketch of a man…
©Joseph James
9-25-08
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