the mind is
still
like the wind.
the mind is
moving
like the trees.
the streets are
full
of vigilant zombies.
some live in
tent
and under tarp.
on sidewalk
and
in small city park.
some chirp the tires
in
their luxury vehicles,
refusing to be
stymied
by a changing light.
some never stop
moving,
twitching and
shuffling
even in their sleep.
some sit like
statue,
grow like
moss,
wake only to go
back to sleep.
you judge the whole
city
based on the few
neighborhoods
you were in,
neighborhoods
where the monthly rent of
one room apartment
costs more than you
make in
half a year,
three quarters of
a year.
the eyes,
vigilant.
the mind,
never
does it stop.
zakschafer.com 