Photo: "Wrapped for Sale" by Garry Knight
There is always someone
yelling
just outside the Metro station.
Today, no different, but what
this man is protesting
or exalting
I can't tell from here.
It's two syllables,
the yelling man's chant,
shouted
over and over.
I stop at the crosswalk, ducking
the upward-flap rustle of pigeons.
The light changes; the cars slow.
Yes. I hear it now.
RO-SES, the yelling man yells.
RO-SES. ROSES.
yelling
just outside the Metro station.
Today, no different, but what
this man is protesting
or exalting
I can't tell from here.
It's two syllables,
the yelling man's chant,
shouted
over and over.
I stop at the crosswalk, ducking
the upward-flap rustle of pigeons.
The light changes; the cars slow.
Yes. I hear it now.
RO-SES, the yelling man yells.
RO-SES. ROSES.
