Photo by Mykyta Martynenko on Unsplash
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.
