Motion of Emotion

Motion of Emotion

Something about the morning stillness
The cashmere mist and the fact that it wasn’t
still at all --
Makes her hesitate on the cement block balcony
Cigarette dangling from white fingers
Shadowed eyes hone in on the pulses of life that run
Through the fabric of the landscape
Earth and man and lamp post and sea,
Concrete and ants and ground cover and grass
That hasn’t seen a week of sunlight

Birds ripple across the grain of the patchy lawn
Arguing over slow worms exposed by rain
Fluttering of wings a momentary disturbance
In the tranquil waves of the trees
she exhales blue smoke and memories of the night, thinks--
Maybe  it’s easier to notice the movement, change
When everything is already in motion.

She reaches into the pockets of her tattered robe
Extracts a crumpled cigarette despite
a nearby robin’s high pitched protest
pulls out a handful of dirty Bics
selects one, lights up and smiles:
funny how an evening that ends in revelations
always ends in far too many lighters