seeing

Having nothing better to do we followed the trail of the homeless towards the river. 

My little gloden shadow practices walking blind through the field.  

In few hours she will walk on the high beam. 

She tells her dog the same thing I have told mine,

 "You fall in that river I'm not going in after you."  

There is art in the grass.

Thorns in the dog's paw.

There are empty houses around the corner.

And people sleeping in fields.

There are news reporters walking door to door looking for the name of a victim. 

And Police driving slowly down the streets searching for the perpetrator, the driver of last nights hit run.

The Christians are in the parking lot of their church giving away clothing & food to people who park their Cadillac SUVs in front of our house, who walk in designer shoes, carrying designer bags. 

Our house smells rich of hot syrup, crisp bacon, and pancakes. 

Trees drop the last of the leaves and a flicker, heard but not seen, makes his way down river away from us.

Across the railroad tracks and up the valley high onto the mountainous foothills one of our own is fighting for his life.

There are a millions things happening all at the same time.

I think we all walk blindly. 

Cutting through the tall grass heading home.