I'm watching the people,
who are watching their steps.
As they walk through life's days
and they watch other people passing them by,
like the sunlight and the shadows,
of another passing day.
I wonder, as watch, as the people move by,
as they wander away from me
and they move through their lives,
on their way to a home?
Or a family?
Or nowhere,
to nothing?
And as I watch and I wonder,
where they've come from and where
do they go.
Do they go there alone or into the arms
and the bossoms of ones who they love.
As watch and I wonder,
on my seat, all alone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
People Watching
by Emma Feneley
You can read from his hands he's an artist,
Though in hers there's a lack of self pride,
Just to catch a smile as it falters
Is to gaze on whatever they hide.
Their eyes become novels of feeling,
But it's laughter that voices the soul
And the child within seems to surface
With troubles they think they control.
A shame is to glance at their company,
To watch Their watch them
No comments:
Post a Comment