Like a statue
he peers out. He’s watching
the people as they pass.
Calm, as they hurry by
he’s watching. Judging,
disapproving at their haste.
“Why do they rush?” he asks,
ears twitching. Watching through
the glass he is aloof.
A yawn passes over
his face. Maybe a nap
will pass some of the day.
He sits and ponders and
yawns again. Still watching
the people run.
Then suddenly he’s had
enough. And with one look
at me he saunters away.