from the Philly SEPTAdventure journals:
past my window. in my head. between my headphones. entangled in my thoughts. newness for my day. sugar for the coffee i don't drink. a drip of honey. slowly come to a quiet stop.
(right around "Nicetown" which is not exactly so nice)
fantastic. this must be my special day. the most spectacular thing decided to sit directly in front of me.
wearing a faux fur black jacket and a diamond earring.
an elegant older black man with a long grey mustache and BLUE eyes.
His loud magenta dyed hair, neatly braided in intricate cornrows zigzagging all over
his head. braids pulled tightly exposing telltale grey roots that creeped around the edges and curves of his fabulous coiffure.
YES, magenta. A hot bold magenta.
I caught myself staring.
I wondered what goes on in his head. What his thoughts sound like.
What does he says to himself before walking out the door each day?
I wouldn't mind crawling into that one, just for a few... see out of those eyes.
I thought he was fabulous. That day on the 23... I was 25
feeling old when I was reminded to live young always
as life passed by my window
smile at children, wear pink, dance, dream,
be the outrageous one
and love. just love.