sometimes a blind man can feel the black petals of a black woman's complexion absorb the scent of her body when the breeze follows the rhythm as she walks on a crowded street noon sometimes a silky white blouse adorned with laces the fullness of her breast in the rush hour of a train sometimes she stands majestic oblivious to the daily headlines sometimes she is nature being there for all time sometimes she is tired, she wants to take her children & just ride on & on into infinity sometimes a blind man standing by a corner sees that within the darkness in his eyes
September 19, 1999
you see them on sunday parked over the nursing home porch the old sunk deep in wheelchairs a styrofoam cup filled with diet coke in one hand
you see them in stop motion under a day wasted sky eyes fixed on street traffic motion
you see wrinkled skin shadows left alone to dry shrinking under the late summer light
sometimes with the wind a loud rap sound passes & fades from a car radio
you see the old ones everyday under late summer sun staring cars passing by
fragile bone shrinking left alone to dry cars rushing by
