Reflections

1.

How odd, the tree by the building
Entrance stands motionless in
The middle of a dry afternoon, yet
Its shadow on the sidewalk
Nods, and sways and bobs its head -
Leaves like parched lips of wild foxes,
Coated with a pinch of summer heat.

I imagine of myself, an ant
Crawling up a cup filled
with midnight.

Within a matter of minutes, clouds
Float into the sky, and stack in thickets, like
Sheets of starched dragonfly wings blocking
Sunlight, spreading rapidly
Like a vengeful, roaring wildfire.

2.

A soft, silky breeze arrives at the place
I wait for my shuttle to the Summit train station
On Monday, after the weekend of
Our celebration -
You and me, on a bed of floating paisleys filled
With crayon imprints,
A row of familiar bricks above our
Heads, separating cushion from sky.

Our voices melting into the evening hours.
The moon, a shy bother to our
Modesty, sparkling, satiny
Behind a gossamer of stars.

How satisfying it felt to lay there
Beside you, hearing, so attentively,
The tune of your breaths -
Feel on my skin, their subtle warmth,
The arch of your neck, the rise and fall
Of your chest, the drawl of your whisper,
The sheer wetness of
Tears clotting your eyes.

And for the first time, in a while,
I felt complete,
In a way that seemed much more meaningful
Than a mid-Summer's afterthought.