The grey windows.

The flat, brittle glass.

Looking out of them.

watching life flow past.

Sipping the endless cups of coffee.

reveries in the noon

Siesta in the sun.

watching life hum.

Thoughts bedecked eyes

Glistening with some distant dream

Head bowed under its weight

Lifted by the chin.

Time moves slowly,

relentlessly

as the clock ticks

and the world spins.

while endlessly the dreaming

the thinking goes on

past the grey windows

Housing the soul underneath.