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 beams--

rays of reflecting light

tell me so

ants, move slowly to and from their hill

with a certainty

known to them but

a mystery to me

those who 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 again in the later afternoon sun

tap, tap tap-another mystery

I hear a clipped laughter like a movie

that reels onward with gaiety and then, gone

an audience of the audience who seek,  look

and return

a movie always in the making

Kat

15 July 2014