so long a time since last we had a good laugh, yet, stubborn, we linger old dance hall walls long without paint windows shuttered; yet... listen! Frail as thought... music... the first speckles of rain falling on dry sidewalks; sounds of feet running christmas toy glue... clamps... twine... curses... assembly instructions that frustrate all night long thoughts of love let you step off the curb into the blaring taxi horn a sax, high, manic. cuts through smoke and boozy chat and you pause, hearing Across white sheets, her black hair flowing as she sleeps. Outside, the hot streets A setter leaps. Quail scatter in the bright sun. A small boy calls and calls. rusted hinge squeaking; a gate swings back and forth, back and forth in the wind As if time itself noticed, all stands hushed as a finch leaps from a twig Leaves thick with dew. By the red hibiscus one lizard waiting— dawn breaks. a wooden pier scattered fish scales, an old man tying knots before dawn skate curls scratched across the ice; the winter air ripe with children's laughter a sheet of paper empty... patient... still as time... this dry search for words |