Cracks in the Sidewalk

Cracks in the Sidewalk




Cracks in the sidewalk
cutting toward the street
in perfect slashes across
the neat rectangular order
of someone’s imbedded intentions

Patience waits for me:
a bed of flowers across the street,
the road on which a yellow double-line’s
fresh perfection lies molested by the trail
of an impatient driver’s tread

And now the rain...
splattered shades of gray on concrete
blotched until swallowed by the whole
a flag tossing ambivalently within the damp breeze
the first hints of Fall out there on the other side
of glass -- where life is real

Tomorrow is the day it will not rain
unless I am comfortably within it
tomorrow words will find shape
and become unnecessary
and concrete will crumble to lend shelter
to the seeds of weeds and flowers.