The train looks to be empty
but there is a man
who is looking at his hands---
and his hands are looking at
his feet;
his feet obscured by
polished brown loafers
and twelve toes
that count the feet
from edge to edge
and how long it takes
to fall and fly
and see
YOU ARE READING
Your Hands, Infinity: A Collection of Poetry
PoetryA collection of poetry for the Soul, for the Spirit, of the Cosmos, and of the Universal, of the Divine and our Consciousness, of a Friend and a Lover, to open a window in the heart and set ourselves free. Having been inspired by many visionary poet...
