Wonder the curling fingertips,
the adamant task
drawing locks
security
in the presence of life.
Check austere provisions,
a smooth swiff,
filling jars,
a man pacing the room,
always in a wonder of how.
A picture of human interaction
“I’m going solo”
spoke a gentleman java guide,
off to the focal point
where lives intermingle alone.
Yet, interaction, a game,
or is it truth
that sets aside
an intellect
beyond the comfort zone.
The breeze outside
wafting wide open screen,
leaves, dance in
unison
the humanity of life.
Would one wonder,
if the hand swiping a sallow
brow
similar to their own,
a night before when alone.
A line of laptops
give quiet indication
we have all been here
before,
in certain wander we atone.
Sweet is the humanity
of discrete passion
for the moment,
the privacy
yet Vicinity wills love.