Wandering A City

In the cool light of false dawn, the cemetery reminded him of a city. Towering monuments glimmered above cracked and aging tombstones just as glass-walled skyscrapers rise above block after block of run down neighborhoods.

Further considering this revelation, the morning wanderer realized that the cemetery's inhabitants also mirrored the inhabitants of any thriving city. Beneath the cold earth and concrete slabs lay carpenters, office workers, mothers, nurses, grandparents, truck drivers, and infants.

One day he too would be part of such a city. He wondered how he would be remembered - as the entrepreneur he had once been of the vagrant he had become. He decided he preferred vagrant. Wanderers such as he had become tended to live on in poetry and stories. Perhaps he would find eternity in a ballad.