My first thought – it’s fake - a kid dropped monopoly money from his pocket on the way to school. But as I smoothed it out, Latin on the green side, English on the gray, I knew it was real. Then I remembered the lady with the brown poodle I’d passed. She’d probably pulled out a poop bag and this fluttered out with it. Part of me thought I should run after her but my legs said “NO!”. This leisurely morning walk was exactly what I wanted. Of course, you can never completel

this world specializes in noise bright distractions, supplied constantly and everywhere it isn’t comfortable for many to have the senses subdued, most live to be entertained many are addicted to it remember those overly energetic, trouble-making school kids for whom the worst punishment was quietly facing the corner of the room if I hadn’t meditated for years I might struggle with my Sunday morning walk through a sleeping world but now swallowed by that hush my ears a

some look uncomfortably crowded and you just don’t feel like riding that one today or you could jump on another one and a crazy person gets in your face so you get off as soon as you can some days you might want to walk and wave to the bus driver as he drives by the stop but once in awhile, the bus or its destination, pulls you in so you climb on the point being, each poem is a journey, and there are dozens of reasons to board or not board all you or I have to know,