The Sidewalk Spirit


The Sidewalk Spirit

with apologies to Shel Silverstein

Upon the grey pavement
of every big city,
a form of enslavement
incites a grave pity.

Like weeds tends to sprout
through the cracks in a space,
a spirit stares out
through the gaps with his face.

It watches the drones
on the sidewalks above him—
lost faces in phones
with no soul left to love them.

It wonders what reason
they have to obey,
no matter the season.
What does this thing say?

And as it strains outward
to hear the odd mumble
the concrete heaves upward
and causes a stumble.

So whenever you gaze
at your phone on the street
remember to raise
up your legs and your feet.

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All-Day Breakfast is a daily reflection on creativity and the human condition in the modern age. This is issue #217 of 555.

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