and mountains recede into the mist of memory
as smiling baristas bring me another cup of coffee
on Fairmount Street I stand under their shadow in the morning sun
thinking of dark roast and mountain goats
another warm sesame bagel
another community playground
another bike path
another hint of a lazy joint
yet as the world turns to water
(and brown turns to green)
in the land of Molispeare I look
singletrackmind towards the summer
singletrackmind towards the world
