I'm just sitting somewhere on a stoop,
Watching all the cars roll by.
One car turns left down the avenue.
Is this person at the wheel making the wrong decision
On a trip to roughness?
One car swerves right towards the boulevard.
Is there gold around the corner?
Shit, I don't know.
I'm just sitting somewhere on a stoop,
Watching all the airplanes fly over me.
I wonder if the pilots in the air enjoy the altitude.
Away from the world - yet - within the world for the moment.
Or they just got somewhere to be.
How do they react to turbulence?
Down below, I wonder if the bus driver enjoys the gravity.
Comfortable on the pavement where the cycle of service can be soothing,
Until the potholes startle the passengers.
I'm just sitting somewhere on a stoop,
Watching all the dogs wander fields and alleyways.
A snow coated husky without a collar nor dependent,
Strolls east without problems.
Strangers love petting her and giving her treats.
Who taught her good behavior?
And what did she do to earn a life of paradise
Where ease just comes to her?
Meanwhile, a German shepherd in need of a bath
Rushes west with a tattered leash
Tugged by his regretful caretaker.
The kids run from him and his vicious bark.
Is this dog bound for tragedy?
How long has he been confused?
Shit, I don't know.
I'm just sitting somewhere on a stoop,
Watching all the people walk by.
The blue collar, the white collar,
The Christian, the Muslim,
The Jew, the Buddhist,
The spiritualist, the astrologist,
The scientist, the athiest,
The killer, the assault victim,
the junkie, the hustler,
The educator, the ball-player,
The sex worker, the stockbroker,
The actor, the activist,
The musician, the dancer,
The poet, the painter,
The finesser, and the finessed.
Several civilians migrate. Others pause.
Some folks got a round trip set in stone,
Others bought one-way tickets to who the hell knows.
Some deliberately change routes.
Some travelers on board have a destination.
Others are still trying to figure it out.
Others are just plain lost.
Some ask for directions.
Others don't ask at all.
Some are going home.
Others are searching for a (new) home.
I see a person slide by in his wheelchair.
I see another person pass by in crutches.
I see the old man jog with a smile.
I once watched a baby girl across the street
Take her first steps to Mommy and Daddy's arms.
I remember when she tripped a few times
And how she forgot that she fell.
We are certainly uncertain about certain things.
We can either try to be the dandelions
Dancing to the sky after the wind yells at us
Or we can just be dust under drunken stables.
Living things are like boxes.
We move, can be moved, or we stay put.
We remain hidden, or we seek.
We can be sealed, unwrapped, or torn.
We can be sent to, or sent back to the setting
That we owned or owned us.
What am I still doing just sitting here on this stoop?
I gotta go somewhere.
It's okay.
Let the stoop stay there.
Shared it in a note and wanted to add here too...Thank you for this offering
"I remember when she tripped a few times
And how she forgot that she fell."
This line felt like me…from the future… talking about me… from the past, which is now too 💖✨🦋✨
I like your “global thinking” from the perspective of sitting on a stoop!