I saw a woman sitting in a café
in Barcelona. She had the loneliest
stare. She fiddled with her espresso
for the longest time. Then I took
in everyone and realized we’re all
still-lifes waiting to be finished
by our next meeting.
It takes a quiet courage to slip
from our regrets the way you
might step from wet clothes
after being caught in the rain.
What is it about these flowers
trampled by a horse? Or the broken
Or the time I chanced to see a hawk
break through a cloud? Everything
I see, I’ve been or will be.
A Question to Walk With: Describe a moment in which you felt a kinship to all things. What detail or presence opened this feeling for you?
This poem is from my book, The Way Under the Way (Sounds True, 2016), a Nautilus Award Winner.
*Photo credit: Evan Ip