Streetwise Poem by Phil Soar

I hear the patter of tiny feet
As Archie Johnson walks the street
Grandad close by, doing his good deed
As traffic passes by, at speed
His finger points at everyone
Until they're out of sight and "GONE"
There is no stopping his daily quest
He likes them all, no one is best
Just pointing as they whiz on by
And Grandad emits a tired old sigh
I see him smile at the passing fleet
Of cars and traffic down the street
And it makes the time seem all worthwhile
To see this child with a gleeful smile