In Slow Rumble
by Pamela Sayers
Life’s emotion is an impulse
trying to find a way to move
like a rhythm-based sonata circling the room.
I watch people kneel at the altar,
waiting for a miracle between prayers,
finding their fists saturated with hope.
An old man leans against a wall,
his dog waits close by, listening
with intent; at their feet a torn leather jacket
embraces earth’s poetic voice;
their world’s naked,
clean of rhetoric, without artifice.
This Mexican sky is dark,
like cats with fearful tight eyes;
tonight’s rain was fresh, loving, and slender
on a sidewalk at the foot of a tree,
waiting for a bus in slow rumble.
If I had a son I’d show him this picture.
Poor Moon is a canary’s song of gypsies,
creation’s invisible sweet scent,
I want to say something:
like how nice it would be to stay in my room
all night and alone.
Pamela Sayers lives in Puebla, Mexico. She loves the culture, how family and friends are always first. She lives with her husband, Michael, three dogs, a cat and a parrot. Teaching English for her is extremely rewarding.
Pamela blogs at wordsandthoughtspjs.