The Sidewalk

I slid down the sidewalk,
flutters of black and white,
like a tape rewinding—
colorless and rich
with empty feelings and moments.

A stream of the sea,
salty flavors of the past,
ripple into the drains,
where my voice echoes
for no one to hear.

Not lonely,
but alone in thoughts,
as fingers brush your arms—
a cold, frozen touch
forever etched into your skin.

Then, it's slashed away—
darkness; a ray of glistening shimmer,
a furry friend,
one with no words,
only actions of warmth and purity.

There we lay
on the sidewalk,
where the sun and moon know not
of their existence,
with an ocean and a cry;
those ears never judged,
even if it was only for a moment,
down, at that sidewalk.