You are walking slowly through the crowded sidewalks, last minute shoppers looking, looking into the stuffed display windows, but seeing a child’s eyes looking back. What was it like, all those Christmases long ago? What was it like being that child and seeing through her eyes? Was Santa real, was he bringing that wished for toy; a wish you’d had all year, waiting for that morning to arrive, and hoping to see it under the tree? Would it be there? Would that wish come true?
I run the city streets
The gamut, down the block, to the corner, a mile
I run the country roads
Through fields of green, or frozen ice, to the end
Take a pill - run away
Shirk a duty - run away
Drink a shot - run away
Lie in the grass; or on a dune by the sea
Sit on a curb, or a bench
Catch a breath with me
Tiptoe by a door
From the night
A dark whore
Passing, never to come this way again
Dark nights, street lights
Entering, never to feel this way again
Remember this scene.....
You remember a fortress, where barren trees wait to live. Life surrounds you with evergreen.
Cars pass in the night, shining through window panes.
A face is seen, within a fractured light.
The rumble of tires, you run on, on to the cracks in the pavement. Those same cracks, stumbled over in front of a window - eyes stare back.