i remember asking her:
would you close the blinds on a sunset?
of course i didn't know
what i was asking

but now that old man turns his back
to the window not to soak in
the last setting sun of summer
not realizing it doesn't matter
he's about to drink in his own end anyway
in the fading glow of his last cigarette

the wind catcher on the porch slows its spin
the red and orange and yellow
motionless ribbons starkly separate
as time grinds
to a
stop

a magical
momentary
suspension

then
tinkling keys on a toy piano
a laugh slips through parted lips
a breeze exhales through the leaves
a warm, bright moon to usher
autumn, at last,
set in motion

rain drops fizzling
across the river's flat plain
seemingly random smatterings
of chance collisions
with waves of pinpricks
spreading over its surface

i taste the hidden pattern
but cannot see it plainly
if i could only change
my habitual gaze

then

this painted pink flower mug of water
would sprout lush in my grip

the stars of these converse sneakers
would shine warm beacons

the comings and goings of strangers
would find familiar paths

and i would know
which current
carried me here
and the next tide
to set me drifting

but

the sizzling shower
retains its secret arrangements
and i wonder
awed
by a mysterious future
in a moment of discoveries
without limit

the difficulty lies
in selecting the right shot

viewed obliquely,
we play the voyeur
peeking through curved lenses
a long look warped
in deceptive focus

but viewed directly,
gaze untempered
no sheen protects us
from pocks and scars
nor radiant wholeness
other eyes return our stare
or we theirs?
with revealing discomfit

subject mingled with object
don't look away
caress your own cheek
with extreme empathy