If you wander into the other neighborhood
And you're asked to stay,
You mustn't leave
Get to know your neighbors;
They're not dead;
they just don't breathe.
by Tiffany Osedra Miller
Friday, June 5, 2009
In The Other Neighborhood
If you wander into the other neighborhood
And you're asked to stay,
You mustn't leave
Get to know your neighbors;
They're not dead;
they just don't breathe.
by Tiffany Osedra Miller
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3 comments:
I lvoe the poem!
I add: poem and picture!
A Big kiss!
I would love to live in new neighborhoods. For a time. Meet the clerk at the corner thrift store. Have coffee at the sidewalk cafe. Start a conversation with the person at the nearest chair. Have long have you lived here? What's the favorite bar? Is rent high?
In 1999, when I got to spend a week in New York City, people when I returned were surprised I did not take a tour bus, visit the top museums. Instead I did what I said above. Talked with people. Sit on the bench at the nearest park. Became a regular at a corner bar.
Got to casually know the bartender, the barmaids. Make sketches on napkins. Joked. Enjoyed myself.
I would have loved to have spent a month there. I would love to do the same in cities across the country.
Thank you, Bassagirl, for your talent with images and words which let me visit your world.
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