Still

They have their hand in the air

The ones with the black suits and briefcases stride forward

Confident

The others seam to fall forward

Their hand raised in a call for balance

Rather than a call for thin, yellow medaled cars to stop

They lower their hands in emberassment when the Taxi flies by

There are two women taking a picture

Their dresses sparkling like tears

Their smiles opaque and thick

A child is crying

Coated figures trudge along the sidewalk

I wonder where they are going

A woman in heels flies at an impressive pace across the street

I wonder where she is going

The rythym of the city is chaotic and familiar

Swelling and crashing into a crescendo of horns and sirens

Footsteps and fluttering scarves

But I am still

 

There are no clouds in the sky today

But there are mountains

Crooked peaks melting into the blue

Even from the bank I can see the sugar coating the tips

The lillies are wagging their heads

The water is sighing

The trees shuddering

People say they like nature because of the peace and quiet

I wonder if they have ever been outside

It is not quiet at all

I wonder if they can hear the wind breathing

Or the burbbling of the water

The birds' sweet voice

Demure at first, but rising in volume and luster

Can they hear the insects?

Hear their loud chirrups and buzzings?

Here they are unafraid

I hear foliage brushing

Untangling

I hear a heartbeat

It could be mine, but I feel it deep in the ground

And I smile

Because in all the noise and fleeting chaos

In every action

I am a whitness

Untouched by it all

Because I am Still

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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