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
Move off.

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