People Passing By

sitting in a summer street beneath a sunlit tree
people passing by
fleeting thoughts showing in their eyes,
eyes that hold delight, dismay, disbelief
this moment, in this day,
memories flooding in, fading, flying, dying
the growing gravitas of this ones frown
shuffling feet, passing through the shadows
children running, laughing, shouting
a shoal of flashing fish, sparkling,
crowds parting,
flowing and repeating

i see her passing
she is thinking
can i buy that dress today,
what will I wear tonight
is my hair alright,
she sighs
i see her sorrow
does all love fade and die

a man stands alone an hour
gravity weighs him down
his feet deep rooted
i could go and greet him
a simple walk across the street
a meeting
the moment passes

i stay beneath my sunlit tree
watching how a leaf falls
the summer hours are fleeting

Fingertips

Where was it, who was I and when?

A dream, almost remembered on waking

But gone, almost, just out of reach,

There at the back of my minds eye

Imprinted, unfocused yet real.

Was it long, or in passing, brief,

When was it our fingertips touched?

Just beyond reach is a thought of you,

A word on the tip of my tongue,

A perfume caught, a breeze recalled,

A scent I know but can’t name.

If I don’t think about it, I’ll know.

Now it is, what it was, what it is.

I like it so.