Impressionists
I apologize for all that I disturb when I'm out walking. Sorry, flock of starlings. for interrupting your feast. I regret, young German Shepherd, that my presence set you off barking. I’m a most repentant man when it comes to the grass I trample, the flowers I brush aside, the sidewalk cement that takes the full weight of me and the glass storefront that must endure a wretched, forlorn breath. And people, don't get me started on people. All of my remorse goes out to the strangers who must step aside, disrupt their pleasant thoughts for a moment or two of pavement traffic cop. And, worse still, is when I come across someone I know. Add the time for acknowledgement, for talk, worse still, for later arrangements, to the great act of contrition: me being in their life. Would you believe some even love me. They even love the poor example I set.
![](\images\issue8img\jgrey_poerty8.jpg)