Notice

​Did you even notice as you walked by? 
You didn’t, did you? 
I saw it.  

The heart-shaped leaf, 
the unraveling thread, 
the flowers tucked in the garbage.  

The slope of the tree branch, 
the sharp lines of the phone booth, 
the sign that said only “Please Do Not.” 

I saw the wet footprint 
shaped like fish bones, 
water bouncing off the statue’s feet.  

I saw it all,  
but you kept walking. 
Onto the next thing. Always on.  

I noticed, felt, loved, and hurt 
while you stayed in motion, 
emotionless.  

Maybe that’s why we’re not together. 
Perhaps we never were. 
Guess you never noticed.