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