In XL, In Awe

Behind the dark green leaves,
through the three open windows,
among the thin gentle winds,
two soul's dream and pillows,
divided by time and region,
or perceptions! may be the gesture,
but sharing the same space,
in xl, the culture.

the old whitish wall,
the dusty greenish floor,
holds memories tall,
some gossips, folklore.
the creamish seat of chair,
withheld many pressure,
yet ready to serve,
in xl, with purpose.

the creaky brownish desk,
complimenting the dirty fan,
remescient of sixties,
when xl came on.
it move along with grace,
with switches of forty eight,
and still hold together,
in xl, sound and straight.

will the flickering souls,
can match these old,
or flowing with the wind,
will lost in cold,
but one thing is certain,
thus i say, sure
the lions of XAT,
in xl , will roar