Photo by Rick Baker
streets of us
the streets are mud; are cobblestone;
are brick; are blackened as tread, feet,
and weather beat the path we wander.
sometimes we stop to tie a shoe or adjust
a belt, but other times we pause to look
at something pulling at our eye, and then
we see it: our reflection or another person
staring back. it's this moment the confident
self parts lips to speak from the gut;
that moment when we hesitate to spill our
secrets, then adjust the heart on our sleeve so
that no one notices we're lost and reluctant
to ask directions or simply say 'hello'.
Poem © 2013 Rick Burnett Baker
Photo © 2013 Rick Burnett Baker
Photo taken at Ford's Theater, Washington DC, December 31, 2013.