birds by t

So things are not the way they used to be. So what if I still listen to Bob Marley and daydreams of summertime only always. Another man once said through flutes that all love comes from the creator. As I sit on my stoop I wonder am I alone again. Once I was lost but now I’m found the song said. Was blind but now I see. But who sees me I ask. Under breath. Probably not even breathing enough. Heart beating too fast. But who sees me. I poke my toe through the hole in my shoe and spit into the bushes watching as the sun sets. But who sees me.