Sidewalk Imaginings

There’ll always be The Old Man and the Sea,

And the archives of Poe and his nightmares.

How thrilling

How chilling

While many…

Have only the face masks of escape

As they glimpse at you once

And forever disappear.

Like diverted eyes of the stranger you caught

While navigating a crowded Avenue in New York,

Who quick-glanced over her shoulder in passing,

Thinking she’d seen a layered phantasm,

As her hand touched her flustered lips

Emitting muffled words that could have been inviting,

Even as she continued holding tight the moment

Of another sidewalk imagining.