We Strolled the Broken Sidewalks


We strolled the broken sidewalks 
Of a little chilly lake town
Caught between mountains
Talking about art and money
Smelling curiously of aged wood
About who cared anymore for culture
And stopped in to lunch at
A corner cafe where two meals 
Cost us twenty because we were hungry
I snapped a photo of the storybook
Book store's curlicue gingerbread
For a moment we were sculpture
Frozen, captured, cast in time
No one important was around to see us 
Only a robot Santa and a traffic cop


© 2016 by Michael Jones 



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