Beneath the elms of Flagstaff’s patient green,
Where tramlines sigh and lunch-hour crowds convene,
A moment loosens from the grip of time
Salt, laughter, steam, a pause before the chime.
A paper-wrapped indulgence, raised in jest,
Breaks earnest hunger, breaks the day’s arrest;
His shoulders lean toward warmth not born of sun,
Her smile replies before the words are done.
Around them flows the city’s muted stream,
Footsteps and futures blur like half-formed dream;
Yet here, between the bite and shared regard,
The world grows kind, if only off its guard.
O Flagstaff lawns, you keep such truths in trust:
That joy is brief, informal, and just.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8
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