walking on the streets

by walterdoege

I don’t walk on the streets nowadays…I don’t feel me comfortable…I feel fear…I walked on the streets two decades before…some glamour I sensed in the air…some tiny loveliness I felt in the air, decades before…I travel less than I like…I don’t feel enjoyment in travelling…at summertime I walk along the beach…near the sea…close to the ocean…at sundown…perhaps a shopping center I feel as a small city, and i do walk some how…I love sensing people, children playing, families playing…at summertime, I walk at sundown…during the day I dicovered a good resort: the small public library…I feel silence, peace and can do some talk with the books…and the authors of the books…Paris on my mind is not the real Paris nowadays…even the beach on my mind, the beach when i played near the sea in my childhood, is not that beach nowadays…it’s not only the existence or not of glamour…some kind of amour…some form of amor…love…and where I live there’s a party at streets…carnaval…music, dance, celebration…I like to dance on the streets in a true party, but I don’t like to walk on the streets…I walk near the sea…and today the full moon is pregnant of news…she invited me for the party…she says to me ’this is our home, sure?’…and so, tonight is gonna be a good night…every night can be a good night…the party is inside me…and you