Passersby Poems - Poems about Passersby

From obscurity come the strangers Fading away, like old dangers. Walking the street of flowers more people pass every hour A few are pleasantry exchangers. Near my porch, robin sings Beautiful music for summer swing! Red berries in a bowl Kelly green butterfles, on patrol Noontime's for swaying and musing. Passersby, smiles of the moment Starry eyes, upon distance fervent! Jasmine fragrance in the air Pink hummingbird is...

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Eyewitness Passersby David J Walker Remembering the publicness of this space I am a guest I am a ghost And will leave without touching The façade that appears as my image What will the eyewitness say How will the witness portray What was meant to be The variant me Passing by...

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I am not a wandering star whom the dark gloom envelopes I am not a cloud empty of tears and blown by barren winds I am not a wild wave on the sea foaming up saliva I am not an autumn tree empty handed and cut down I am a cloud-topped tree flowing with honey in my veins...

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sweet dreams in their eyes bright as sunshine on flowers ere the purple falls they come and they go each rosy day of our lives like fruitful seasons footsteps fade like mist or brief butterfly visits on paths of color...

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" She decided to jump,right from the top,mind was set,no way to stop..Free as a bird,life gone in a flash,hit the ground with a thud,as pedestrians pass......

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rock hard ribbons string cracking cobbled roads hoards harmonize with hidden steel chains fractured silver mirrors reflect an absentminded people and ambivalence marches through cloaked the anonymous labor along grey stone city streets cross crumbling avenues broken beleaguered faces the blind fail to grasp the revolving refugee plodding shadows darken evaporate as mist vanishing in the night the rage inside is self-contained as throngs of travelers pass vistas...

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And so I say, please take my hand Share with me on my immaculate bed A box of chocolates, black and filled with all those goodies we so missed. Why feels this city so alone, so empty with all these people running, pushing As if I don't exist, and nor do you Shall we feel our still-alive together? You have your wife, I...

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Some are strutting; others drag, Promenade or amble, Every one a puzzle We’re unable to unscramble. Some look cocky, others sad, Lost in their reflections, Heading off, in head and foot, In varying directions. Some are spiffy, others drab, Yet a first impression Isn’t quite enough to gauge Contentment or depression. In the city, passersby Cross paths but what we see Will not provide the clues to solve Each private...

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PASSERSBY The world seems to be passing by On they go intent on arriving somewhere on time Past they flow determined on something only they know Leaving me they tumble and go A steady stream of ants the are Full throttle or leisurely they march by I stop and stare wondering to where they go Briefly we encounter each other A glance...

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You see them each and every day Some going home, just on there way You think one day you’ll stop and say Hello, but you just don’t. So, on they go, again, so surely by Though you may have given them the eye You want to stop and just say Hi But today again you won’t. Why is it that we scurry on our way, Never...

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