Sitting On A Street

Not in Ukraine,

not in Philadelphia,

not in New York City,

not in Juarez,

not in London,

not in Bejing…

so many places I’d rather not be.

The street is perfect with people

minding their own business, 

walking along, some smile.

I’m anonymous, not a target.

There it is, the life I ordered.

If I’m lucky, I come off as a

nice old man, harmless, to which

category I’m happy to belong,

forgotten, even by me.