An old woman sits on a folding chair
Outside a dilapidated shop with peeling paint
Talking on her phone in bellicose sing-song tones
That sound alien to me but like home to someone.
An aggressive young man pushes past me on the street
Phone to his ear, eyes on his watch,
Barking opinions to someone on the other end
Who I imagine is just as distracted by his own importance.
A homeless man sits resignedly on the street,
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: city,compassion,hopelessness