CROSSED LEG
I dream in a world of "what if"
trying to manipulate what the future will give.
Empty dreams or so it seems
we have no way to predict the future.
Dreams are only dreams unless acted upon
and like prayers
sometimes the answer is yes
but mostly no.
If we dawdle the opportunities
will go.
The sun won't wait
and time is not an open slate.
There is no stopping place
on our journey to the grave.
We have the present
carrying our baggage of the past
and arrive at the end
with only our history to recommend us.
A man outside in smokers hell
waves his cigarette around.
He betrays a genetic flaw
his crossed leg bobs up and down
uncontrollably.
There is dementia and wasting in his future
if his lungs survive the cigarettes.
His dreams have a time line
ours are uncertain.
A beggar cadges spare change
and people cross the street against the light
and the palsy victim beats time
with his
crossed leg.