This Poem I wrote at least 20 years ago, like it or not here it is.

Rushing

By Aileen McPherson

Rushing, rushing too and fro, will they stop? I don’t know.

Sitting here upon my perch, listening and watching, across from the great church, all the people as they go from here to there, rushing everywhere.

Rushing, rushing, too and fro,

Do they see me sitting here way up upon my window sill?

Probably, maybe, I guess not, for their much to busy to care a lot.

So I just sit and watch them go, like many little ants all in a row, but with what purpose I do not know, they just GO.

Rushing, rushing too and fro, rushing, rushing as they go, as they go.