Philadelphia, Penna., April 6, 1972

How the same, the difference is.

By Vladimir Huber

Different kinds of people;
like in any park.
Antennas and trees, all pointing at the sky.
Somebody writing in a corner,
somebody smiling back.
Just people around, trying to become
through different ways,
when the way is not given,
but must be chosen or found.

You see them all,
you see none.
You see one,
you see it all.
And at the end,
we are the same.