There I Was
It was the kind of night
Where the stars come out
Swinging. Suddenly thousands,
Hundreds of thousands, each
One like a memory, sky full
Of old scars.
A group of three girls pass by,
Preoccupied with themselves,
With something within themselves,
With one another. Too impossible
To ignore, I watch them as they
One bumps lightly into the other.
She laughs. Their histories are
Probably full of long, starless afternoons,
Like nothing I have ever seen.
Copyright © 2003 Lisa Zaran