Attic window catches dawn
Nineteen eighty-two drawn on
Yellow edges frayed and thin
Counting where the feet begin
Fingers trace the blue and red
Counting steps the living tread
Window warms the brittle page
History reads a quiet gauge
Yellow paper counts the tread
Morning light turns gray to red
Meter runs on folded lines
Sunrise pays the fare on time
Paper skin remembers weight
Of each sole that sealed its fate
Creases hold the morning rush
Ink doesn't fade it only hush
Fingers trace the blue and red
Counting steps the living tread
Window warms the brittle page
History reads a quiet gauge
Yellow paper counts the tread
Morning light turns gray to red
Meter runs on folded lines
Sunrise pays the fare on time
Rain taps glass like meter clicks
Driver knows the sidewalk tricks
Weather turns but routes stay true
Map outlasts the avenue
Stations sleep beneath the dust
Names like coins in rusted trust
No GPS no glowing screen
Just paper roads where feet have been
Yellow paper counts the tread
Morning light turns gray to red
Meter runs on folded lines
Sunrise pays the fare on time
Corners folded numbers gone
Still the grid keeps rolling on
Sunlight pays the daily fare
Yellow breathes the morning air
Yellow paper counts the tread
Morning light turns gray to red
Meter runs on folded lines
Sunrise pays the fare on time
Folded yellow holds the count
Morning sun reads each amount
