train track wisdom

have you started to discover
your downtown area?
cheeky old buildings with
personality on their faces
smiles & frowns based on
previous tenants habits.
temporary dwellers effecting
hundreds of years of bricks
in a humdrum attempt to
pass through unseen & covert.
have you seen the ghosts
of your towns past?
tangible beings disguised
as a wisp of fog float by,
market in hand, but unnoticed,
are they just the poor?
what was that saying?
"ask the impoverished
who the Christians are,
they'll tell ya"
twas overpopulation
killed downtown,
the graceful allure
of a chic side street
all but abandoned
by new neon signs
promoting promises
to a new generation
of willing consumers.
bums fill a St.'s fountain
interchangeably washing &
begging for change,
willingly exchanging
coffee money
for nervous glances
from a walk by benefactor.
step over the train tracks,
there you'll find
a hobos wisdom
written on walls
of gray, dull concrete.
feelings of despair & desperation
etched with a broken bottle,
but Freedom!
at the sound of a whistle,
all while 7 nations flags
flap in the wind atop city hall.
as the day breaks,
young play writes &
cigar shop owners scurry
by with ideas in tow.
these personal possessions
enough to get them through
a day downtown,
across the street,
over 3rd, past 4th,
& ending at Maple & Main.