fancy
an aspiration: that my fingers deftly dance
upon my flute-keys with the gentle grace
of the woman braiding her hair in this café
(and to cause this same delight)
an aspiration: that my fingers deftly dance
upon my flute-keys with the gentle grace
of the woman braiding her hair in this café
(and to cause this same delight)
several flutes, and several kinds of incense
and sheaves of music strewn about
the wooden buddha suggests i step outside
and i’m not up for an argument
do the calla lilies care that i’m swimming in plans, without breakfast?
will the salvias notice that noon approaches
without my having walked within their fragrances? i ask the nicotianas
off the porch, but they’re too busy blooming to answer
timing is everything–it’s easy to forget
but miraculous quiet reminders abound:
while walking with my visiting friend, we witnessed
the first cherry blossoms of the season
the faithful-orange-flowered-volunteer-
whose-name-nobody-knows is back
handsome in the rain. i’ll grind some coffee
my friend will wake up soon