Sidewalk

The regular cadence of my steps pick up again as I step past the predictable melted garbage on the sidewalk 

Mindlessly stepping but only too sure not to dirty my shoes against the intruding trash whom had made it’s home there

and on I went arrogantly traipsing through as though the claim were mine to make 

It’s just like us 

This is ours and “I’m walking here, a*****e!”

 As if to be interrupted by anything other than the immediate answers to the desperate wishes we make in whatever stage of grieving we are in that night, or any night; is an outrage and grotesque

If we were that wrapped rubbish tossed aside form our intended path or dream to be exiled to a place of gray and gravel  

We should be only so gracious as to take up our small space in the world 

grateful for the scenery 

and using not but what we are given in our small slice of existence 

We all know however that we practice far too little of this type of gratitude and still less of contentment 

On in my ignorance and with brevity of humanity I step on and past this small lesson 

For a moment I wonder how many lessons I have missed to the importance of my oh so important life