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crosswalk

forward march

in that glazed

daze of being

mostly elsewhere

not here crossing Main

in front of the Scientology

building where a dozen

pigeons write

cryptographic

messages

on the sidewalk,

but this small flock

of humanity seems sadly

dispirited by cold flurries,

noon, downtown

cafes wafting grease

when one of the forlorn

almost to the far curb

calls out in a voice

like broken glass:

somebody dropped

a wallet. A few heads

swivel, a few

check pockets

or purses but foray on

so broken glass stoops

picks up the wallet

and with a backward

glance ambles on.

 

--Miguel de O

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Uploaded on January 3, 2022
Taken on December 6, 2020