unseen

unseen.lauren smith.  as the sun rises     footsteps fallkeeping in time with a single heartbeat.    up and down rain slicked streetsbacon sizzles-                     as eggs are flipped.    the scent of hazelnut vanilla leaking out of               windows latched tight.and as the day goes on…          children wait in line for vanilla ice cream cones                 a mile and a half high.lights twinkle from red to yellow to green               much like the cars that speed toward them.the bustle of people       slinging purses and throwing change pass                  a couple. Watching the lingering pinks of the sunsetand the permanent pearls of the moonrise     hands entwined…a routine they’ve been a part of                      for sixty years running. They’re miraculous things     Precariously placed within a city.             Not made to be noticed or seenWith the eye. A magnifying glad. Or even a microscope.                 But made to be appreciated. Noticed. Accepted and loved.  With the heart.