A square of lucid green flickers against the
blue sky of a sunny winter day,
catching my eye as I walk towards the common.

Soon I discover the source of the color
an old man in a wheelchair covered with rags
tethering the winds with a fishing pole, unknown Aelous of the city.

I pause to watch but he beckons me
offering me the reigns and
together we admire the graceful spontaneous dance.

I wonder if he feels alone
if old age has crippled his body and mind
and heart I wonder if I am alone, but suddenly I muse:

We are yesterday’s children playing with the air,

We are tomorrow’s painters coloring the sky,

We are timeless spirits sharing a moment of beauty.

 

 

1/26/12