
I Saw July 20
I saw July 20,
A day painted in chaos,
An accident, or what looked like one,
Cars crumpled, bikes askew,
Tickets fluttering like lost dreams.
I saw rows of merchandise,
Colorful, vibrant, yet untouched,
No flip flops soft enough,
To cradle weary feet,
Just a longing for comfort,
In the coolness of the morning.
I saw plantains, golden and ripe,
Lying in wait for hungry forks,
I saw food, a feast for the senses,
Sizzling, fragrant, calling out,
To shoppers with empty stomachs.
I saw a dead bird in a gutter grate,
Silent no longer a witness to the day,
Its feathers a stark contrast,
To the passing traffic,
A reminder of fragility,
In the midst of the mundane.
I saw people washing cars,
Soapy water words floating in the air – Tamales!
Laughter? No nothing mingling with the splashes,
A moment of panic amidst the spray,
Finding Sunday to be ordinary,
On this July day, alive with footsteps.
by AIADCOPY (Emmy Horstkamp and AI.)







