I live on a street
where people walk by
I see their parts and pieces
through stands of trees and bushes
their mass though bits of movement
on scattered light beams--
rays of reflecting light
tell me so
ants, moving slowly to and from their hill
with a certainty
known to them but
a mystery to me
these go to the ocean shore
to the waves and crashing surf and
more perhaps,
and back again
I saw a blind woman walk this way
and back in the later afternoon sun
tap, tap, tap--another mystery
I hear clipped laughter like a movie
that reels onward--then, gone
an audience of the audience
who seek and look and return
a movie, always in
the making
Kat
24 June 2015
