In black and white

she let the steam from her coffee

rise above the page boy haircut,

dance for the shortest

time around her eyes,

deep, beautiful, the sparkling seduction

of a desert song at dusk

and let the sigh of ages push

the coffee to its farthest shore

and the small bubbles of indifference

pass in their wake

like small tug boats caught in an

ocean storm.

 

I see her in monochrome,

the shadow of the day

falling over her face, the small wisps of hair