transitions
old men leaving cafe tables emptied
tan stubbled faces worn dinner jackets
brown shoes
big gestures
yelling down the block
to a nod then wave goodbye
old women arms full with morning shopping
pleasant round faces bright colored wraps
brown shoes
wrinkled eyes
telling the stories of ages
to a stranger's conversant smile
--night is never more than a half day away
from lonesome streets busied by transients
giving up crowded bus seats
to the never less than resigned, going home...
elPintor
Tue 23rd Apr 2019 08:46
I am a stranger in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. But, maybe everyone is a stranger here.
Sometimes I'm not sure how much the language barrier interferes with perspective. As far as I can tell, it's just like I've heard--people are all the same. And, besides, how far inside can words really get us anyhow?
I appreciate all your kind comments.
Rachel