Sidewalk Poet

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Sidewallk Poet


chalk scraps across the concrete

scratchy sound

sends chills up my spine

if only to remind

me to pay attention



it is the only pay cheque

worth bothering with



the world of man slides

by, a blur of noise

a whisper of rushing feet

a flash of passing shades

all lost to the background

of confusion



this is all illusion



what is real moves

a different pace

walks the soil not cement

is a different place



yet right outside your door



I draw the heart of man

where the feet scrape it away

and I draw it again

to draw attention

to what fails you every

time



i am the keeper of rhyme



it is my job

to make sure you see

once in awhile

what is truly there

which is not what

you think



but rather what you need



take heed



sometimes the Truth

comes upon velvet feet

pads into your line

of vision

just long enough to

make you stop



leaves you wondering

what you saw

real or delusion

like I said

just illusion



look for the painting

etched into the sidewalk

Truth comes from all corners



maybe even yours