SIDEWALK AFTERNOON

There’s an element

of searching

 

a strong unwritten

text

 

reminders of miracles

wasted in an alley

or a hallway

without lights

where vapors

dribble out confessions

 

like the street artist

with a crooked crescent

smile

chalking his drawings

providing them

with a soul

and eyes that follow

 

and a woman

silent like daffodils

staring stiffly

into her uplifted palms

hoping for a message

on how not to be

found

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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