The streets are crowded with smells of
earth, crack in the asphalt
blade of summer grass; taste of naked
leaves on a sidewalk tree. ….
passerbys someone stares, they will not
look through my eyes, nor
steal my thoughts. ….
silk of thread between hydrant and rusty
antenna, fly loosed by wind;
smoky cab exhaust in my mouth forever,
yet i am disguised in my age
in my race in the full-noon day; leaves soon
colored as barn hay, tree
boughs wag; i listen to all sides of the city.
Copyright © 07/29/2015 fishbonepoetry®