Do you notice, how it has just <br />stopped raining, and the air is colder, <br />smothering us in fresh sharpness, <br />the exquisite slapping of our shoes <br />against the wet ground, the light <br />dripping of cool rain, fish-like, <br />from the silvery tree tops, <br />the faint calmness? <br /> <br />Do you notice, how the leaves fall <br />from the trees, abstracted, <br />almost lackadaisical, awating <br />the firm ground to steady their <br />beauiful leaf lives, <br />awaiting that defining moment between take-off <br />and touch-down, between <br />emancipation and recapture? <br /> <br />Do you notice, how we are lost, <br />but not really, our souls searching for each other, <br />the taxis' cries haunting, Us in complete oblivion, <br />of the stopping rain, <br />the red umbrella lying forgotten on the sidewalk, <br />beneath cold excited fingers and <br />the wails of panicked ambulances? <br /> <br />Or were you wrapped up in your own world, <br />where there is not You, nor I, but only <br />the neon-lights in the television-dulled <br />dark, where Sheep are plenty, a world in <br />which there could never be, <br />You, nor, Me, <br />nor Us.<br /><br />Ballerina With Fins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/may-time/
