monday afternoon downtown after a morning rain
in between heartless gray monuments of no progress
wet sidewalks glisten with puddles of water
sprinklers behind black wrought iron fences
in force anyway sprinkle sprinkle spray chattering
barefooted young woman in tattered jeans
white t-shirt overflowing
bopping down oak street
you ain’t a real town unless you got an oak street
dirty brown backpack fringe dangling
full of who knows what
matches her uncombed dangling damp dirty blonde hair
with a crazy head full of who knows what
carefree easy swing in her step
smile on her face what’s she on?
where did you come from-- are you local
where are you going-- just passin’ through?
who are you going to?
is there someone who genuinely cares about you
maybe you don’t care
maybe you're just a free spirit
a restless soul on an endless trip
floating from cloud to cloud
drifters drift
destination like distant stars too far away
for the billion dollar telescope to see
an aspiring artist or writer
notebooks stashed away inside your bag
pockets full of scribblings, drawings
maybe you're just a wanderer
no definite defined destination
just a lost wanderer like me
I wonder all this from my car that I wandered to
in a downtown don’t back up tire damage parking lot
sitting waiting doing nothing
another time another place another another
she turns the corner— I bet I’ll never see her again
