Hands clasped around my knees,
I watch.
The air,
cool and sweet as water,
still as a small pond
as the sky
slowly darkens to a
soft azul
and the streetlights flicker to life.
People pass, unhurried.
Here
in the twilight dark,
the pace is as slow
as sipping a
glass of sweet tea.
Birds call softly,
their sleepy cries fading
with the sun.
A family passes,
blissfully together.
"No trashcan!" warns the man as
the little boy sneaks close.
The chirp of a cricket, like
the quiet creak
of my grandmother's rocking chair,
begins.
Quits.
I sit,
still in my spreading
pool of soft illumination,
taking it all in.
No comments:
Post a Comment