I walk the evening streets
Familiar, impartial yet distant
I overtake the blocks
Waiting for silky thoughts
That may compel my heart
To intensify my freedom
Streets give meaning
To stores, shops and stalls
To lamp posts, signs and traffic lights
Where would they be without streets
A sense of observation tickles my spine
I stop walking and sit on a bench
What to observe I say to myself
How about that woman wearing a shawl
Window shopping with hankering eyes
Or that little boy jumping around
Agitating the passers-by
Between the curves of the woman
And the unbridled energy of the youth
I get confused
Which one would boost my freedom
Then my attention is diverted
Toward a quiet mutt
Observing with knowing eyes
Affording me a sly glance
I get up and start to walk again
Only to stop at a pastry shop
The smell is enticing
Inviting me to go in and get
Some marmalade, toast and tea
But the fire is overwhelming
The fire of freedom
Imploding my intent to smithereens
Sapping the joy out of my desire
After all the turns and twists of evening
After the delays and distractions
How should I maintain my traction
I shall walk and walk and walk
Till my mind loses gravity
Till I no longer carry the freight
Of thoughts, stories and traits
Then can I say
I have rendered the evening obsolete
Lifted its veil and tossed it
Over the stretch of streets
Then can I say I am free.