Walking

A walk is a lovely thing.
When the Sun's not too hot
before nine
and the air's not too damp and
only feels like a friendly hug and not
an oppresive oppressor.
And most everyone's driven
to work so you're
without the engine growls
and the smell of gasoline
tainting the morning air.
Alone but not alone,
because someone's walking
a big black labrador
and someone's pushing their
baby in a stroller down the street
and someone's riding their bike
with their biking goggles and
gloves and everything
and some construction men
are finally
fixing that roof.
You can say goodmorning,
goodmorning,
morning,
hey there,
and when you can say those
things you're really not alone.
And sometimes
just sometimes
you spy something wonderful
like rabbit's ears peeking
above an untrimmed lawn
or a stack of potted plants
all growing together
with the big ones on the bottom
and the rest tiered up
- how ingenius?!
And that's why a walk is really
quite a
lovely thing.