All these people—
with their knees,
with their bright sweaters
with their matching jackets—
can we really have the same

Sometimes I work
and sometimes I watch the people walk
by the windows—
the work gets done without me.
We capitalize much on the clockworks.
I house bone, not steel
my flesh is living, circulating
I see yours, the same.
We circulate together and only the birds see it
only the wind knows.

I wonder what you’re thinking—
you with the angel hair
with the black smudge and tall cheeks
what do you look at?
What is it in your pockets
that so entices?
What leaves do you notice
in the autumn winds?
You blend in with the walls—
I look away and come back,
curious where you have gone—
but you’re there, still,
still breathing.
You hug yourself tight
and I wonder how we both got here—
did anyone ever know we would
one distant day see each other?
Millions and millions and millions
of people over millions of time
and millions of space
and yet you sit on that bench
and I in this cafe.

How little we see each other—
and yet feel so exposed.

If only we had more
canvas soul of saints.

1 Comment on “Sometimes I Notice

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