Lotto

Lotto

 

Wondering;

while the world

slows down,

a flickering light

in dull grey mornings.

 

Not the fog

of the dream,

but in the mind,

believing, a complete

lack of compassion.

 

And a stray sniffs

my cold cup of coffee

before limping away.

 

Odd really,

perhaps not.

 

As I scratch at a quarter,

glued to the street.