As We Walk

image by brian miller

as we walk


At Shockhoe Bottom, downtown Richmond,
in the parking lot across from Main Street Station

I'm taking pictures on my phone of street art
adorning the sides of brick buildings & hear

the skritch of step, out of step with mine,
a man following behind me, around the corner
drawing closer

(heart beat/heart beat/turn to look)

"There's a Street Art Festival
down by the canal," he shares

we talk brief & he moves on after
rave carding me---

you've got some sun, i can tell by the freckles
when you arrive & we walk down the side
of the canal, where slaves once came into the city,
you tell me, as we walk & you are no tour guide
by your own account, but i am rapt in-a-tension

the old stone bridge ruin beneath the new,
& we walk, the arches all lined up, it's your
favorite view, i can see why, it's got geometry
to please the eye & we find

the festival, all these artist on automatic lifts
& scaffolds, with cans & cans of spray paint
pssshhtt then step back then psssshhhtt, spit
shade & texture to bring life to a wall, into fish,
to bodies thrown like darts at a bull's eye,
to an elegant victorian lady

in the moment, i watch art's head crown,
its eye roll round to peak out the birth canal---
to WhAT?--maybe measure the temperature
(it's mid 70's) to see if it's time & i say, "come on
out, you can do it," my hands in the catcher position
trembling in anticipation as creation dawns,
an MC Escher pipe dream/scape

& we walk back the way slaves came, i ask
if as you walk this way you ever feel like one, 'maybe'
you say & we laugh, with-held tears, nor ankles
shackle marked as we walk

Brian Miller

Posted over on his site Way Station One