Recoiled

He thought they’d had, for them,
A quite good day.
He took the garbage out
Before she asked, complimented
Her on the new hair style, and
Listened for some time after
Inquiring as to her day

He tried to make eye contact as
She was taking unusable things out
If the refrigerator and moving them
To the garbage can, smiling on
Occasion to show his sympathy with
The vicissitudes of that day’s battle

He commented on how selfless she
Always was, and how people took
Advantage, sometimes; as she finished
Drying her hands after washing them,
He lightly placed his hands on her shoulders

Whereupon she recoiled, turning at
Once to pass that off as a gesture of
Busy procedure on to the next task, while he
Realized with the first dim realization of
A new forever that
What used to be good enough for her

Wasn’t good enough any more

Snapshot: In A Historical Market

So much to learn, so much to know,
So many places we can go,
The future and the past combine,
Into a thing human – divine –

So much to see, so much to hear,
A world, once far away, that’s near,
So much to feed a heart and brain,
While we still dwell on what’s mundane

Snapshot: A Woman on the Bus

The days are hard,
She’s tired, and
Frustrated;
A better life —
For so long, now,
She’s waited —

She’s more and more
An animal
Who’s sessile —
She’s sui generis
But not
That special —

The scenery
Goes by, and she’s
Reflecting —
Another day
Of talk without
Connecting —

A worker’s job –
A crier’s tears –
Authentic —
So much alike
That sometimes they’re
Identic