written by: Jamie Johnson
A stranger in your town; interloper,
seeing things that long ago your eyes dulled to.
The crack in the pavement whose meandering
veins represent the cession and dawning of the
Stray dogs, roaming the streets in search
of food: their wildness reminding us of primitive
Ivy crawling up the buildings like spiders,
beautiful and grotesque; synchronously adorning
and destroying mortar.
Specters of days passed; coexisting and mingling
with inhabitants who have long forgotten them.
The wallflower, never noticed but ubiquitous, a leaf
falling from a tree, a stiff wind making you close your
coat, a whisper you think you hear.
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