Car parked on the curbside
Out steps a shiny black stiletto
Perfectly manicured hands, that deep shade of red
An air of business, somewhere about her hair!
Snapped her fingers, beckon yet another
Eager, running, dressed in his only best
The hotel bellhop.
His cheery best, fishing for an extra two
Mask he donned, worry lines concealed
Oh high, oh-so-mighty eloquence now
Smoking in a corner the next.
Slow, unsteady trot,
Careful step after another
The wandering, homeless soul.
Unsure of balance, a pity dime in hope
Stared up, up at the sky
Seeming deep thought, all that had gone by…
Back to focus by a Barking dog.
Hand in hand as though congenital
Left foot, right food in a rhythm
The two, seemingly new in love
Not much said, a lot spoken by touch
Maybe troubled, yet hope filled
Every step a seeming reminisce;
Every step a stride forward.
Slowly, but surely
Away from the bellhop, away from the wandering soul
Away, yet another possible past.
