Performance

It is art and life.
The lady plays her music
and the traffic warden
enforces the law.
The music is silver bells
and wind chimes
as background to
the small, life drama.
The artist gets more nervous
as the ticketer approaches.
Maybe she has been
moved on before,
she begins to pack.
While he glares at
a number plate and
writes on a tablet.
He glances over
but she is in flight
and hurries off.
He sees me watching
and we both notice that
something is missing.

Light Rain

I look back
and am transfixed,
as light through
raindrops, fills the street,
with points and lines of yellow light.
I remember the
strange quark sea,
and how we
float upon it.
Which seems to
join us together
because it laps
at all of our shores.
Yet the uncertainty of it,
the state of being unsure
is what divides us.
Now the rain
is gone,
moves on, and
I am left
enriched.

My poem at poetry 24

Two Dead in Bamiyan