so I took my coffee to the porch, where
I smoked fine North Carolinian tobacco
out of a hand-made maple pipe and watched
the sun rise over the cement factory, a train
rolled by, tooting its horn -- a 19th Century
industrialist would stare at this site in marvel,
finding a certain beauty in American industry, but
now . . . hell, even now there's a certain beauty
in the way the sun reflects off those metal chimneys . . .
a bird builds her nest in a tree in the front yard
and the children hustle down the street headed
for school, and I guess I should too for a meeting
of the minds. But this exchange of time in class
for time on the porch was time well spent. Now,
that's consideration.
Raleigh,
3-27-2012
