Walk to Work

Outside the swinging garage entry,
Bread bakes.
Pastries cool.
Garlic roasts.
Children laugh and poke and spill from buses.
Sampson the Horse patrols majestically.

And the man who used to be somebody’s baby
Sits solitary and resigned on the bench
Receiving the shower
That dampens his skin, his hair, his worldly possessions.

Flowers bloom.
Workers scurry.
Couples pose next to the rose garden.
Statues loom.
Cars whiz, honk, screech, thump.
Concrete giants stand passionless against the gray sky.

Speak Your Mind