Morning

He seemed OK, at first

Nothing out of the ordinary

Until he saw the long stick

Sticking out of the trash can

Thin and long flexible like Bamboo

His pants were military fatigues

And he wore a Parka, with fur around the hood

The morning was cold, but not like the day before

When it is below freezing and his Parka hood would have been over his head.

We all passed the stick.

But he grabbed it.

And he tested it against a card board box at the next trash can station,

It cut the box almost in half with a hard swing and it went Whap!

People began to take notice at the bus stop and at the corner waiting to cross.

There was no general panic but just an awareness of possible danger on the street.

Even the smartly dressed and the elderly did not show fear or retreat, just caution.

So he confirmed that the bamboo was a sturdy weapon against the box.

So he lashed out against the sign post and the metal against wood was a draw.

He got more confident and he called out to his foes; in his head.

His steps became stronger with body movements forceful with the stick in hand now.

Who were his enemies at eight O’clock in the morning?

Manhattan, New York

March, 8th 2007