on the way back

all the people that i saw
the walkers, the runners
the talkers, the avoiders
the smokers, the spitters,
the shouters, the criers
the callers, the quieter ones,
the pride, in two
the young family,
the chips, cheese and statues
and memories, everywhere I looked
like the pavement stones
raised and jagged
barely containing
the past they were resolved to forget
they were told to let go
and hold on their sheets
the flow of the present,
the hope of the future
all the people that i saw