Habits
I made a habit, then, of leaving
my third-floor apartment late each evening
to walk a few blocks down Fifth to Main
as movie marquees began to dim,
colored neon tubes attracted departing
crowds to bars and cafes while solitary
walkers, familiar from our nightly sojourns,
turned back along numbered side streets
toward rooms we’d left a short time before
and scanned TV listings for midnight features.
Midtown
I spent my better alone moments
on a crowded city street corner bench
where Lamar crossed Fannin in that silence
only stalled and honking traffic can create.
I preferred the evening glow of sunset
reflected off windows of multi-storied
office buildings followed by streetlights
slowly spreading into view.
I did not bring my notebook to that corner
nor record thoughts on a not that small
device hanging in my right shoulder bag
to save the scenes that might elude my memory.
I brought the corner back with me after dark,
pedestrians rushing from those offices,
the couple out for early supper,
the harried driver late for his.
I ride the much-reduced bus service
to that bench and the sun’s shattered setting
reflected off broken ninth story windows,
unlit streetlights disappearing in shadow.
I received Council’s Houston Tomorrow
Proclamation: “A New City Center”
adorned with full color renditions
of smaller buildings and bayou park trails.
I note the careful absence of specifics,
a failure to mention financial figures,
and speculate on Council’s slim chance
of progress toward Houston’s Tomorrow.
Milton Jordan, after many years in Houston, now lives with Anne in Georgetown, Texas. His work has appeared in anthologies, collections and journals, most recently, “Fellowship,” “Spitball” and “Texas Poetry Assignment.”
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THE CITY KEY 