Sunday, July 28, 2013

Some Folks #2

He marches, usually in place.  Sometimes he marches forwards or backwards.  
But usually he marches in place, with his head down and his lips moving.  
His lips move a lot.
The corner, his corner, is thick with suburban grime.
It holds a bus bench, which he occasionally sits on, knees bouncing and lips moving.
Long and lean, his skin wears years of experiences, his hair gray at the temples.  
His body in constant movement.
He sits, he doesn't board a bus though, for he is there only to be right there.
Sitting, standing and marching.
Often he sits, back to the street and the rush of traffic, staring straight ahead at the cars parked on the used car lot.  He sits, head in hands, staring forward at those motionless cars.
As the world rushes past, behind him.
 At those times, his body is stilled...quiet.
Until once again he rises, to shuffle his feet in place.
A faraway look in his eyes, he marches.
~Nancy A. Erisman, July 28, 2013

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013

*Inspired in part by the amazing People of the Street series by Lynda over at iWonder


Anonymous said...

"only there to be right there"
like that.
& enjoyed reading the writing words link you sent, thanks.

Nancy said...

Cindy~ yes, like that.
Thought of you today when I saw a grouping of baby spiders on the underside of a rose leaf :)