#134

Let’s go sidewalking
fingers embraced the way
shoes are laced
toes, tipping
over curb edges when crowds
edge us to the side
pushing wool of my peat coat
into your pockets
and the crest of my elbow
into your side

Let’s go sidewalking
through street fairs and festivals
hands tied together
by a communal cup of candied
almonds, and
crunching –
the only conversation

Let’s go sidewalking
through lines of gentlemen
craftsmen
crafting sales with cigars
hanging from their lips
“little lady” winks falling
from their lids and tips
of their hats hanging
in our wake as we waft
along, barely watching
where we’re heading

Let’s go sidewalking
where canvases line
imaginary walls and locals
imagine
they are artists so we can
pretend we are collectors
looking down each others
noses, shooting glances
sideways
over the path of our hands
as we hover
further
down the sidewalk