Wednesday, February 11, 2015


City of walkers. You can stand on any street corner for a while and  just watch the people passing by. People are walking and laughing and talking and carrying and pushing and pulling.

If it has wheels, you can move it.
You can rest in a doorway or follow the girls with their
bright sun umbrellas.

The colours. The light.

The thunder in the distance.

The swishing of a woman's skirt.

You watch and you listen.
You melt into the pot.