Shekinah Glory

Tenderloin, Turk Street
June 20, 2008, 1:37 am
Filed under: Poetry, writing

Some streets team
with aimless wanderers
drifting dazed toward
the next block
of animated conversation.
Others inherent purpose
shuffles them toward
something important,
a progress soon erased
by history’s uneven crawl.
Those who can not walk,
can not pace these streets
sit in their metal chairs,
calling out to the wanderers,
or they sit on a stoop
sipping from cans peeking
from brown sacks
and a plastic bottle’s
amber liquid.
They only lift their heads
occasionally from a sidewalk’s
parallel lines.
Children stay only awhile,
stopping at a crosswalk
reaching up for a hand
or kicking forward
on a two wheeled razor.
A cafe’s talk reveals
that our community
is pure entertainment.
All who are cast
on our various screens
inhabit this neighborhood.
Each posses wild gestures
and bawdy laughter,
harsh tones melt
at innate generosity,
then back into loud
and friendly accusations.


2 Comments so far
Leave a comment

I wish I was with you!

Comment by carol howard merritt

Me too!

Comment by pastorofdisaster

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