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


Drea said...

I lvoe the poem!

Francesca Romana ALEGI said...

I add: poem and picture!
A Big kiss!

Ralph Ivy said...

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.