The signs of choice are everywhere: The woman in the considered top— An emanation of orange— Paired in complete exhibit With a slack tapering well to A dark-stockinged, un-tired foot Balanced with no effort on a low heel; The man on whose shoulders You could rest the floor-joists Of a house, whose black cotton Pique polo suggests little beyond The swell of his arm At the jersey cuff— But the string of wood beads on His right wrist surely Comes with a story; There, saffron, in a wide-legged pant Deftly capped by indigo denim, Followed low underneath By white sneakers Bleaching their vicinity; and Linen everywhere, on half The travelers, resolved To what comfort can be had In Washington in July.
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From an Airport Coffee Bar
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The signs of choice are everywhere: The woman in the considered top— An emanation of orange— Paired in complete exhibit With a slack tapering well to A dark-stockinged, un-tired foot Balanced with no effort on a low heel; The man on whose shoulders You could rest the floor-joists Of a house, whose black cotton Pique polo suggests little beyond The swell of his arm At the jersey cuff— But the string of wood beads on His right wrist surely Comes with a story; There, saffron, in a wide-legged pant Deftly capped by indigo denim, Followed low underneath By white sneakers Bleaching their vicinity; and Linen everywhere, on half The travelers, resolved To what comfort can be had In Washington in July.