A sparkle of light signals dawn's
coming. The park's grass is white with
the morning frost. Hot breath and cool
air form cumulus notes that match
the rhythm of my heart and feet.
A woman sits in the park. She
is not dressed warm enough for the
cold. Her head is uncovered and
her coat aged and worn nearly blends
into the stone bench. She is still.
As I approach her she slowly
lifts her head. Her eyes meet mine in
an uneasy but simple stare. She
holds my gaze and turns her head a
bit to watch me as I walk by.
My eyes leave her face as I move
from her on my way. She closes
her eyes for safety's no longer
a concern. She slowly lowers
her head and becomes still once more.
A dozen steps later I turn
to look at her face again. The
sun is low but bright enough to
water my eyes. When I focus
she's gone and so is my rhythm.