elizabethlevett

In passing with my mind

on nothing in the world

but the right of way

I enjoy on the road by

virtue of the law –

I saw…*

a row of feeble geraniums in plastic pots

and coffee cans

along the railing behind a house

grey concrete cold in the shade of

early morning.

Some laundry hung on a line

by someone’s back stairs

and just the other side of a bus shelter

the thin ankles of a very old woman

so tiny.

She wore stockings with her white sandals and clutched

her handbag in gloved hands

maybe on her way to church. I seem to startle her

so I wished her a good morning and smiled

and so did she behind those pointy

sunglasses of hers.

At least five dogs were in

too much hurry

so I didn’t get to pet them

and tell them what good dogs they are.

Too bad.

A man and a woman were standing face to face.

(I noticed he was very tall and he must know it too.)

His voice was raised –

something about “relationships”

and I wanted to tell her, “Let him go. Let him go.”

A young man came down the steps

in front of his house with a little boy

behind him and both of them

were wearing woolen caps.

The man turned to face the boy

and took hold of both his small hands in his own, then

raised him up so he could

hop, hop, hop down the last three stairs

in yellow rain boots

because that’s what a father would do.

And there was a chair on the sidewalk

that someone must have replaced with a new one.

It was old.

It’s faded stripes of green and white were matted

like a tired chenille rug, the kind you’d have in a bathroom.

Maybe the new chair is turquoise velvet

and tufted. Maybe it stands proudly in the corner

until the cat settles herself there

for the duration.

And a row of pigeons sunned themselves on a wire overhead.

*William Carlos Williams, Spring and All, XI – 1923…prompt was to pick a line from a poem and write from there.