city profile feather

i walk through Hyde Park

as dawn rises to morning

my head still full of music, trance dance,

spins in the freshness of early risen light

i head for the river, embankment, bridges

passing a cafe window i catch her glance

a smile, she turns away to her coffee

the image of her profile engraved on my retina

i walk on and never forget her

such are the tricks of chance and no chance

i watch the arc of a pigeons flight

a feather drops at my feet

a second gift from this city

the only gift i can touch

 

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