(While at the Pheasant Lane Mall)
Where are they going? Where have they been?
I at my station keeping
Wonder as they pass and pass again.
Fixed on some goal unseen, unseeing
They pass like lions caged, resolutely,
Like fish indolently swimming
In the municipal aquarium.
Shall I hold out hope for them
To feed upon, or, more substantial fare,
Merchandise to ease their aches and cares?
You caged and pacing lions
Do you know who stands outside
Watching as you stalk by?
You sharks and grazing grouper herds
Flocks of parrot fish whose brilliance absurd
In this current of captivity
Why display such enervating poverty?
For whom do you march and pretend
Without beginning or sure end?
Do you look beyond your paths
And see the silent stars
Weeping as you lonely pass?