The couple at the table beside us
are, no doubt, on a first date.
He’s talking about travel plans – a beach –
she’s quite casually looking at her watch.
More coffee? No, thank you. I’m good.
It’s scents that linger in the air,
or a trail left in the water.
An impression left in space after something
or someone has been there and leaves –
the trace of her. Perfume. Heat. Light.
Across the café, she pauses her writing.
Perhaps she saw or felt me staring.
Is that a notebook, workbook, or journal?
I want it to be her poetry.
The only heat here comes from coffee.
The leader says this pose looks easy,
but relaxing is very difficult for many.
Savasana, lying like a corpse, but conscious.
No more struggling, awareness, tension subsiding slowly –
my mind wandering onto a dark path.
She says “I follow a lunar month.
You follow a solar month. Too bad.”
Out of sync. Orbiting around each other.
Your waxing, waning and my rising, setting.
Throwing you in shadow today. New Moon.
Today starts the longest lunar month of the 21st century. Read more