People Watching
By Emily Eschner, Portland
I’ve come here
to the water
at dusk
a number of times now.
The same place
at about the same time;
but never the same.
I witness an old man and woman
sharing bits of bread out of a brown paper bag;
twentysomethings with their arms around each other;
fiftysomethings hand in hand;
on the boardwalk,
on the rocks,
at the edge of the lake.
It’s windy.
I watch the sailboats drift by
two at a time,
and scarves blow
side to side.
I came here to read,
but I think I’d rather just watch….
girls who wear tiny backpacks
and girls who wear no shoes.
People who walk their dogs;
and dogs who walk their people.
