I Spy
I'm not much of a poet, but I started this series last spring, inspired by the many characters I "spy" when I'm walking around town, especially along the river. It's a break from the regular posts, anyway.
Two wizened old bikers with long white manes and black t-shirts sitting in the park. “Nahce day fer eksircizin.” Yup;
A sleek blonde sophisticate adjusting oversized sunglasses in the rear view mirror of her red merc convertible, following a leisurely lunch on the riverboat;
Man in uniform sitting at the helm of his pick-up truck, listening to conservative talk radio at full volume and staring fiercely out at the river;
Two baby ducks instead of three, which sends me worriedly over to inspect and find the third yellow puff blissfully grass-grazing, unaware of my concern;
A dirty old man eyeing a 15 year old and absentmindedly fondling himself;
Illicit lovers happily planning their future, dreaming out loud, starry eyed holding hands across the camry’s console;
Myself. Quiet. Watchful. Going up and down the steps and cutting across the old alley to feel the bricks underneath my shoes. What do my objects of interest think when they see me?
Two wizened old bikers with long white manes and black t-shirts sitting in the park. “Nahce day fer eksircizin.” Yup;
A sleek blonde sophisticate adjusting oversized sunglasses in the rear view mirror of her red merc convertible, following a leisurely lunch on the riverboat;
Man in uniform sitting at the helm of his pick-up truck, listening to conservative talk radio at full volume and staring fiercely out at the river;
Two baby ducks instead of three, which sends me worriedly over to inspect and find the third yellow puff blissfully grass-grazing, unaware of my concern;
A dirty old man eyeing a 15 year old and absentmindedly fondling himself;
Illicit lovers happily planning their future, dreaming out loud, starry eyed holding hands across the camry’s console;
Myself. Quiet. Watchful. Going up and down the steps and cutting across the old alley to feel the bricks underneath my shoes. What do my objects of interest think when they see me?
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