With an old Olivetti
Typewriter clattering.
He sat moulding words.
Shaping thoughts that
Like concrete would form

The pond outside the window.
Shaped as a leaf the shimmering
Surface undulated. Brief glimpses
Of gold among water lilies as
The early afternoon Sun

Sent dazzling reflections
Onto the green ceiling and into
His mind. Drawing thoughts
Towards the clanging bell.
The journey home

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