Looking Through the Looking Glass

I sit in a very busy Starbucks and try to grasp a seagull from the air.  They are more prevalent than eagles and hawks, and are less seasonal than Canadian geese.  Maybe my train is slipping on the tracks, and it causes a reality of fatigue.  I miss so many things, but I am ready to face the concert of analogies and misconceptions my way.  There is judgment in the wind, and I am unable to verbalize my appetites toward misconceptions.  I read the stop sign, but I care more for the sign that says yield.  A lone policeman ventures into this zone, and I can tell that his uniform is pristine and new.  A baseball cap tops the fashion statement that is the rest of the uniform.  I now see the quiet boy in the corner who comes in almost daily.  Maybe he is like me, and finds solace in this setting.  I am now enchanted in a solemn way by the quiet studying of this population.  In the end, I find it all very constant and free of darkness.