poetry is in the street

poetry is in the street
it goes arm and arm with laughter
living on the margin
of life and humanity

masks adapt to social context

hear a butterfly graze your ear

the old knife sharpening man
with his bucket, low wooden stool
and water leans into the effort
blading an edge
his lower back is sore,
standing spine
shuffles away seeking blades
dulled by all the chopping