The Daily

There he sat
A healthy mess
Poring over the news
Like an studious sage
Eyes on paper
White hair, white shirt, white beard
Getting used to the ol' black and white and read all over
Being several shades now
A spectrum of color
Bounces off the front page
But still black and white
On the inside
Are the friends and colleagues
Or the possibility thereof
Names and dates
Accomplishments and accolades
One day, too
His name will appear
And that is what he sometimes sees
Something to talk about at the office
Something to think about in the dark
That place where the letters are so bold
The typeface so strong
That the page dissappears
Among other things
Those names will always look traditional
They will never POP
Or SCREAM from the page
And that is fine
Because it may be the one moment
That everything is allowed to be that way

--
6.29.06

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