Golden Week

On a day, so cool-sunny pleasant,
People overcome by the urge to go out,
And they do so, in numbers, this Saturday,
All strolling, shopping, and milling about...

A man pushing a dog in a stroller,
Stops, with a lost look on his face,
As if he's waiting for someone to
Prod him, perhaps take his place,

Nearby his woman bends over
A carton of colorful clothing,
At an open-air market where
Hundreds mingle, some of them loathing
The prospect of it all ending,
Too soon, with no way to save
The minutes they're spending...

Others, are simply unaware,
Happy to be strolling, shopping, and
Milling about, in the springtime air.