Sweet Moments

She rests,
   I rest
to the rhythmic panting
of her shallow lungs
and the grind
of the gardener’s hedge trimmer,
the neighbor’s lawn mower,
the opening, shutting, ,
locking, beeping of cars:
people shuffling to and from
somewhere.

The woman across the way
waters her flowerbed.
The man on the corner
weeds his walkway.
And we sit together by the window
watching the summer sun glide by
as we rock to the motions of the day
and doze off to the background buzz
of the cicadas.

She’ll be a young woman
when they come again.

All Rights Reserved: Elizabeth Bohlander Wilson