Gimpy old man limping
Walking a service dog
Leading the dog by a handle
like he’s pouring tea
Turns a corner and disappears
Leaving only the Bridge to see
Across the speeding neighborhood street
Tables twisted with people
Words inaudible suggested in gestures
Clothes off the rack
Restraint feeble
Lining asphalt and concrete
Providing suggestion of life and green
Trees rattle and choke in the wind,
Leaves turn inside out
Trunks piercing like dogs’ tongues
But fresher breath
Could be an architects pencil-in
Fresh from the crowd of condos
Mangling the view of the forest
Stoplight present in its trough overhead
A clam in the agitation
Speaks little, says much
To a captive intersection
Swings like a metronome
And I am mesmerized