On the steps

I am back here
on the steps,

It is Autumn.

Not my town, no abode, no contact
Alone on the steps, as they pass
Features blur.

You could pick them out if you wished,
but I see no need.

I do not wish to meet these people, merely observe,
It seems lazy
And clichéd
To wonder where they are going, what they are doing, what they are thinking, how they continue, how they do not give in, how their families are, how they fuck, If they make love, how they met their significant other, if they are happy in the way they love their lives, if they are happy with the world around them, if they are the world around them,
If it becomes them,
If we are linked,
If we are attatched,
When they disappear from view.

Perhaps their sobs were smothered as children,
Perhaps that’s why they do not spill,
On the pavement
As I watch
From the steps.