Tiles

Two dots of brown
A smiling row of white
Patches of red, blue, peach, black
But I only notice the brown

Staring forward, unwavering, vacant
Staring at me
Through me
But not only me

At others, swirling around
Passing by, ignoring his brown
Agendas and luncheons and extra-marital affairs
Occupying more important thoughts
But not mine

Who is the man behind the colors?
He (or she) who creates life from the unliving
Capturing an instant in time forever?
I ask no one in particular
But I know I will never know the answer

Two dots of brown
A smiling row of white
In an ever-moving city
In an ever-moving moment
Frozen, alone
But I am here


For Martin

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