Enough free verse for a while. Poets United, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, challenged the writers to write something from the point of view of an inanimate object. For some reason, my mind jumped to a hotel on my old beat when I was on the St. Louis Police Department. I won’t mention its name, because I haven’t been there in over thirty years, and it may have been revamped. However, it immediately became apparent, to write about it, I would have to rewrite The Shining, so I set my sights a little lower. This English sonnet would be the words spoken by that hotel’s sidewalk, thirty-odd years ago.
SONNET FOR A HOTEL SIDEWALK
by Mike Patrick
The rich and famous strode along my length
while darkened doorways led to love affairs.
Celebrities, returning from their trysts,
would duck their heads and hide behind my stairs.
Forgotten now; the business loop has moved.
Ignored for years, my cracks are choked with weeds.
No one recalls parades along my curb
yet many used my pathway to succeed.
The blood of homicide now slowly flows
where once red carpets kept my concrete warm.
Now the whores and pushers masquerade
as something in a softer, gentle form.
If only time could turn back once again
and take me to the I-remember-when.