This Is The Past

It won’t happen again.
Not quite like this. Her,
crossing exactly here,
doing the usual phone thing. Him,

further up the street, looking.
The other woman, with the crutch,
about to step out. And me,
with my camera, crossing too.

Similar scenes are happening now,
will happen later, tonight, tomorrow,
next week, nationwide, in cities
all over the world. But

this won’t happen again. Her,
her, him, me. Four unconnected lives
and them unaware that I’ve
connected us. And now you.


All Things Must Pass