The Second Act

Something I didn’t expect was to see younger than me parents. They push strollers past me, clunky, silly, retro backpacks for baby bags and their progeny coo and slobber along.

They seem so young and new to life. It’s like their sex surprised them with a new life – literal and figurative. Mini fashions come and go for baby girls, the expectations laid in front of them and their chubby, padded feet that can’t walk it yet, but will know it. Clothes for baby boys rarely evolves; there is little movement to the role of being a man, no matter what we all say, so why should the clothes reflect a path that will lack as many stones, sour stares and thorns.

Sitting still, at the middle of my own wheel turning, I’m all observations and critiques.

No one look at me.