strolling city sidewalks, shoulders trailing
behind us, low and smooth as milk
down marble stairs. This day
the leaves in the trees are scratching
the flaking backs of each – responding
to prompts put forth in parched voice, given
over for intepretation by the breeze. This after
noon, the cars idle by – boy fingers curled
pink and white around the last
inch of open window, studious faces lick lips
in concentration

– a drip of sweat skimming her
sunburned nose like honey.