The Hood’s Stoop
I sat on the stoop in the hood~
While a white plastic grocery bag alone blew by~
In the chilly winter early morn~
Rolling away low on the broken, cracked sidewalk~
Like a tumbleweed in a ghost town~
It soon disappeared in the distance~
Further down multitudes of roads~
With mish mashed homesteads~
As I still sat cold and alone on the stoop~
Pondering various places~
The tumble bag visited.
By Lisa J. Warner AKA Lisa Luv
CopyRight1/30/2014@LisaLuvLLC