Shopping carts cruise down the aisles,
Drivers pushing, there╒s no smiles.
Each time I look deep in their eyes,
If they look back,
Their turned down grins would start to rise
To let me know that I was there
And when they felt that they could share
They showed their teeth and opened wide
To let me know
That things were not so bad inside.
Then they’d look down or at the news
That’s on the stand but still bemused,
Think to themselves,
“Who is that guy who tagged me
While I╒m stuck and waiting in this line?”
I soon got home and then unpacked
And walked the pond whose edges cracked
As snowflakes whispered through the trees,
A drifting dust
That covered crusts of sun starved leaves.
The trees stood gravely in the snow
Just grays to white, so monochrome,
Though some brown leaves hung as a sign
To tell the eye
That it was not yet color blind.
A mockingbird sat in one tree,
I slowed to watch it watching me.
It couldn’t smile, bemused at best
And quiet as
It saw me stop and stand at rest.
I walked along, then stopped to see
That it indeed had followed me.
Was it just simply wondering,
“Who is that guy
that’s staring up from under me?”