Paused

Saturday, February 8, 2020

Seated in plain sight he is invisible

The passersby halt for a moment to note

That something might be there, but they

Aren’t really sure.

 

She pauses a moment longer than most.

A deep inhale, a furrowed brow

And for a moment he thinks this is his chance

But with an exhale, she walks on.

 

Each day he sees her stop, breath in, then out

Soon he mirrors her breath, intake and release

Until he no longer remembers who started

This exchange of inside.

 

He is fiddling with his aged, dark hands

Perched in his nest at the side of his life

When something twitches the air around him

A sound. A voice?

 

Her lips flow out a word of concern

To him? He does not know for sure because

A word of worry is peculiar

In his world of silence.

 

Something is bubbling inside and all he feels

Is nausea? Or is that joy? He does not know

But the sensation looms as he sees

Her and the other one move past.

 

So he sits, stopped in this moment

Watching them stride forth and

His legs tremble for the day when

They may move again.