Thursday, November 23, 2006

She sings a tune
Foreign in the wind
She sings at peace
Yet all the folks quake.

Two flicketies beside a goofy grin
Glad to be alive and skipping.
She saunters down the path
And all the folks quake.

She reads all the words
But misses all the signs
Glasses sliding down her nose
Why do all the folks quake?

A juicebox in her hand-
the one for trips and kids.
Tis the sparkle of her day
So all the folks quake.

Very mindedly fingering her hair
(to the stranger, the Minded seem absent)
Laughs softly, ears reverberating from the laughter
of shaving soldiers, saltwater and flour
(thank you BC!)
It makes all the folk quake.

Bends down to talk to pigeons
Then waves goodbye
One hand on the juicebox
Still.


I wonder what the English would say about it.

3 comments:

Esther said...

im not sure what you intended by this, but it reminds me of the fountainhead. Roark is so confident and sure of himself that everyone hates him and gets unnerved just watching him.

the sabra said...

yep

the sabra said...

a flashback soon to be visited


b'ezrat hashem