Staring Into Space
No reason why a person can't have
the freedom just to stare into space,
night or day, looking for whatever.
Falling stars can't be seen in daylight.
Or can they? I've never before looked.
The old guy over there looking up
into the heavens, here in broad daylight --
seeking a falling star?
Maybe. Maybe I'll just ask him.
No, on second thought, leave him be.
He seems happy, unconcerned, just...
Why should I care that he's staring?
His business, not mine.
But now he's got me staring up, too.
The sky is beautiful, nary a cloud.
It's crisp, leaning toward cold today.
I briskly rub my gloved hands,
keep staring up at blue sky.
A little old lady pauses beside me,
asks, What are you two looking at?
I curb my sharp tongue, have to answer
honestly: I don't know, I admit,
but when I see it, I'll let you know.
I hear her fading mutter, Old farts.
Two crazy old farts.
Bill Roberts has had over a thousand poems published online and by
the small press, some nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart Prizes.
He annually hosts readings to honor women poets, the series "Strong
Voices, Strong Women," and to benefit battered women's organizations.
Bill can be reached in Broomfield, Colorado at marcorosie@comcast.net .
