Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Annoying lights and noisy cars and full of stress and people,
on a boring street between two rows of dirt and grass in disarray,
the rocky sidewalk lifting, dropping me awkwardly as I trudge
among a slew of ugly buildings tossed about on either side.
I squeeze between a shaggy and protruding mess of bushes
and a rotting wooden pole that’s in my way and has no purpose,
and here the sidewalk ends and starts again across the street
and so I anxiously prepare to rush through lanes of busy traffic.
I’m agitated by the wait and angry at the scene, and then
I notice someone standing there across from me and staring,
but not at me-- at all the dull and dirty things around me...
looking through his lense at something I have yet to see.