1917 China

Hardworking men pulling rickshaws on dusty streets.
Rich Chinese being carried by 4 men on litters,
like small rooms with two long poles on the shoulders
of the men.
Mourners wearing all white in funeral processions.
Bodies left above ground for 40 days in graveyards before burial for proper mourning and preparation for the afterlife.
Camels walking in a line on the streets with bulky loads on their backs.
Street performers playing musical instruments.
Jugglers and contortionists exhibiting their talents.
Crowds of people watching.
Open air bizarre. Many people shopping.
Bird sellers selling birds.
Puppet shows and a sword fighter showing off his skills, two swords in the air, hands and swords as if flying.
A barber washing and cutting hair.
Street cobblers mending shoes.
People eating and washing clothes on sidewalks.
Street peddlers selling many goods.
Men with two sprinkler water buckets on their shoulders, sprinkling the streets to keep the dust down.
Legions of men walking by carrying heavy loads now carried by trucks.
Some pulling the heavy loads with ropes.
An ancient trolley car rolls by on rails.
Children working with adults hewing wood and logs.
Two men with two-man long saw sawing wooden planks.
Beautiful boats, cities and rivers.
How I would have liked to have seen it all in person in 1917.

Bob Boyd

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Author: BobBoyd

Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri? 79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, originally from just outside of Boston, MA. Retired and enjoying a solo, reclusive life always researching and gaining knowledge. Most of my poems are fictional. I write about many things: Spirituality, Mysticism, the Paranormal, Cryptids, Werewolves, Ghosts, 411s, Nature, Birds, Animals, Romantic Love, Death, NDEs, Women Persecuted as Witches, Fictional Characters I Create, News Stories, AI, Robots, Insects, like the poem entitled, Hail Caesar Bob, (about when bees were swarming me outside the door to my apartment), and many other topics. I write a minimum of 3 poems daily, sometimes more.

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