Slow Day Street Scene
Been raining.
Off and on all day.
A little sun.
Maybe an hour's worth.
It is Friday.
Fourth of May.
Guy in the next office yells at me.
Look out the window.
We are on the second floor.
Good view of the street.
Three lanes.
One way going south.
Four people near the alley.
Between a bank and the library.
Plain clothes cop.
Assistant city attorney.
Man in black.
Woman in black.
The cop walked across the street.
The attorney walked up the alley.
A delivery truck parked.
Some cars drove by.
The sun was bright.
The couple in black were just standing.
He in an old black suit.
He with a white shirt.
He with a black fedora.
He with white socks.
He with black shoes.
He with a white unlit cigarette.
She with a black t-shirt.
Words too small to read.
She with black sweat pants.
She with white tennis shoes.
She with brown hair.
She with sunglasses.
They were just standing.
They were just talking.
White cigarette still unlit.
Now she bends down.
Now she ties his shoes.
Now they move on down the sidewalk.
Only ten feet they walk.
White cigarette still unlit.
He limps slightly.
She shuffles.
They stop at some steps.
He ties his shoes this time.
Now they are moving again.
He limping slightly
She shuffling.
Sun not shining.
Delivery truck pulling away.
More cars going by.
You see things.
You notice things.
You look out the same window.
You see the same street.
Sometimes it rains.
Sometimes the sun shines.
Off and on all day.
A little sun.
Maybe an hour's worth.
It is Friday.
Fourth of May.
Guy in the next office yells at me.
Look out the window.
We are on the second floor.
Good view of the street.
Three lanes.
One way going south.
Four people near the alley.
Between a bank and the library.
Plain clothes cop.
Assistant city attorney.
Man in black.
Woman in black.
The cop walked across the street.
The attorney walked up the alley.
A delivery truck parked.
Some cars drove by.
The sun was bright.
The couple in black were just standing.
He in an old black suit.
He with a white shirt.
He with a black fedora.
He with white socks.
He with black shoes.
He with a white unlit cigarette.
She with a black t-shirt.
Words too small to read.
She with black sweat pants.
She with white tennis shoes.
She with brown hair.
She with sunglasses.
They were just standing.
They were just talking.
White cigarette still unlit.
Now she bends down.
Now she ties his shoes.
Now they move on down the sidewalk.
Only ten feet they walk.
White cigarette still unlit.
He limps slightly.
She shuffles.
They stop at some steps.
He ties his shoes this time.
Now they are moving again.
He limping slightly
She shuffling.
Sun not shining.
Delivery truck pulling away.
More cars going by.
You see things.
You notice things.
You look out the same window.
You see the same street.
Sometimes it rains.
Sometimes the sun shines.
posted by Fred Garber at 4:04 PM
2 Comments:
Fred, I just loved this - for what you saw, and for giving me a chance to look out your window with you, and for the simple way you wrote about these simple and profound things.
Beth....thanks for the complement! My window does provide me with nice view of the street. The street is called Pierce St. The building that I am officed in is called the Orpheum Electric Building. I really enjoy your blog for it's variety...urban and rural scenes...family, poetry, philosophy, religeon etc....
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