Sandals tread where tires rolled;
the humans go so slow,
to feel the breeze, smell wet leaves,
and sit within the shade of trees.
Music fills the air with notes;
the humans listen slow,
to Tejano here and Reggae there,
to Jazz notes mixed with folk somewhere.
Smells mingle in savory smoke;
the humans savor slow,
beer/curried rice and barbeque steak,
spicy chicken and funnel cake.
Colors clash and melt and swirl;
the humans dance so slow,
in African shifts and layered skirts,
Indian saris and tie-dye shirts.
Close they pass without the touch;
human beings can tell as much,
eye to eye, stride for stride,
no more cars in which to hide.
So, human, go feel the freedom,
of being in the street.
Hug your neighbor and take a stroll.
Give your breath to leaves….
© Copyright 2007, Joanne Sprott
Submitted to dVerse Poets Pub for their Tuesday OpenLinkNight. Go, share, read and appreciate poets in a great community.