living

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