Came across this on the corner of Huntington and South Huntington, waiting for the 39 bus. The word "Pretend" placed in solid letters up along building wall. No idea what this was put up for. Was it art? It couldn't be part of anyone's business, could it? I thought about it and wrote this poem today.
Pretend
That you greet lowly interns
with the reverence
reserved for your wife.
There's no need for windows
to lock and prevent escape
from eighth floor.
Your grains of time
aren't being funneled
through a second tube
before hitting bottom.
Everyone is sorry
they made the day about them.
No one is waiting
to pounce you right after
your first satisfied sigh.
The bus does not
take you further from home
each passing day.
1 comment:
I can totally relate to this poem. Sensitive and aware of the world around us.
Post a Comment