I’m strolling to the market for some fruit.
It’s spring, the sun is out, near 3 o’clock
in Berkeley so I’m watching for the root
that hoists a hazard of a sidewalk block.

Approaching me’s a man with sparse gray hair,
and next I meet a bald guy with a dog,
succeeded (round the corner) by a pair
of men who pass each other. Some may jog
in nearby neighborhoods, but here the gait
is set to walk, and walk for exercise.

I can’t tell which are married, who is straight,
if any could be interesting or wise.
I hesitate to guess without a gauge,
but this is know: these guys are all my age.