Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Latte Silent Night

she glided by as silently as the night

a starbucks in her hand and starlight in her eyes

her silent grace played like a symphony

her symphonic crescendo the stuff of dreams

she moved as owls swooping for prey

dark on dark

her quiet power radiated like an oriental whisper or a native american sunset

as she glided by as silently as the night

I marveled at the casual precision in which she moved guided by bat-like radar

as she passed, the shadows and the cacophony of the city closed behind her

as I slurped my latte

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