Small Talk

In a town of limited sight,
the echo of the dark,
Where coyote laughs
The language ancient language,
I hear
Conversations trying to catch up the day.
Soft murmurs,
hushed silence and the sultry air.
Under the mimosa,
where the red clay drinks in her infusion,
I listen to see,
the stars
have not changed their placement,
a shift in the heat,
a quick cooling
As the lightning whips and crackles.
Too busy for my own good,
and finally,
the dark takes a long deep breath,
I sigh.
A slam and a bang,
the screen door,
someday, I'll fix it,
maybe.
Tonight though,
lost in the cricket's serenade,
a hand fan and small talk.

Raine Les 8/19/2009

It's like I was there...lovely