Gravel of minutes,
quarry of hours,
hand shadows touch
on upbeat murals
while hurried glances
mask what we know.
Static currents finding voice
through friction,
she twirls a sable brush
in one hand
and reaches for the next card.
Gray dawn transits
over asphalt
to the vein tendered
by a dream, strands of mist
trailing over her sliding glass door.
~ Charles F. Thielman
Born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina, moved to Chicago, educated at red-bricked universities and on city streets, Charles F. Thielman has enjoyed working as a social worker, truck driver, city bus driver and enthused bookstore clerk. Married on a Kauai beach in 2011, a loving grandfather for five free spirits, his work as poet and shareholder in an independent bookstore’s collective continues!