People
People are letters
Of the alphabet
The crowd forms
Random syllables
Perfect strangers
Pass each other
With perfect precision
Of prescribed distance
And silent indifference
But syllables are babbling
A yawn of boredom
A mutter of temper
A sigh of relief
A gasp of wonder
In search of
The exclamation point
©2008 Dosia McKay
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… a takie wykrzykniki to się albo chowają, albo już mają dosyć wykrzykiwania…