This Little Corner Of The World

Never slowed down during the day
The bicycle shop–no doubt the source
Of the hundreds of bicycles, motorbikes
That passed by incessantly in all directions
Trucks supplied the nearby plumbing store
Backed in-and-out the entire business day
Fog blanketed sounds of morning trains
Failed to squelch what had been set in motion
Raucous starlings called from roof side perches
Locals unaware/unconcerned they were watched
By data streamed by cameras to the entire world

Up, Up, and Away

Over the river, through the woods
Away from grandma’s house we go
The “horse” knows the way
From sunny climes to cold and snow
On winding concrete ribbons
Past endless, hills, valleys
Numerous, strange-named places
Full of people we didn’t know
Luggage, packed, stowed away
Always more than the year before
Why has it always been that way?

Don’t Be Afraid To Cry

A large room with a window
Could have been a bedroom
Floor cluttered with shirts
New, men’s sport shirts
With designer logos
On left, chest pockets
Logos, of a Southwest
Native American talisman
Slow parade of unfamiliar
Men, of all persuasions
Came and went
Helped themselves
To expensive garments
From the window
My father’s face–reflected
Disappointment, sadness