to listen to a reading
https://soundcloud.com/aka_andrea/the-seer
I saw her sitting alone on the curb
https://soundcloud.com/aka_andrea/the-seer
I saw her sitting alone on the curb
as people moved past her.
Up and down the street
on their way to here and there.
She watched with eyes wide
her face resembling a blank page.
Never looking long enough
to cause her head to turn.
You could see within that eye
that something registered.
But you could never tell what it was
as she never even blinked.
Her gaze was steady, solid,
eyes like cameras recording it all.
But what she did with those images
one could never tell.
I watched from where I stood
for what seemed like hours.
Though in reality,
I’m sure only moments passed.
In those moments
something in me knew her.
I walked over to her
and asked if I could sit down.
She never turned her gaze away
from the movement on the street.
But there was an almost unseen nod
toward the curb.
I sat down and tried to see
the world from her vantage point.
But I realized that
there was a mystery in what she saw.
Moments passing, glimpses stolen,
nothing solid, nothing stayed.
There was no pause, no story,
only phrases and broken words.
Conversations unfinished,
sentences lacking punctuation.
Thoughts unexplained,
intentions unresolved.
Beside her
I simply stared
and began writing stories.
Beginnings and building
on everything that I saw.
There was dialogue and dramatic pause
there were silences empty and filled.
There was romance and intrigue
yet there was never any resolve.
I chose to let the stories remain unfinished
in homage, in reverence, to her.
To the keeper of visions of lives
as they come and go.
I knew it was time for me to take my leave
I felt something shift in her rhythm.
Before I rose I had to ask her one question
I felt that she had something she wanted say.
I drew a breath and simply asked her why
she only stared at moments passing time.
The words came out crackling
as if her voice had never been used.
I could almost swear the words
were covered in dust.
She said it quietly and with finality
no question that was all that there was.
“Sometimes there are
just too many words…”
You wrote a powerful, disconcerting scene here. The ending is interesting. So many words must have been swirling in her brain unexpressed. This must have been very uncomfortable to endure. So much goes on inside a person that we really never realize from the outside.
ReplyDeleteYou had me absolutely captivated. Somehow this girl reminds me of my high school self
ReplyDeleteI am
http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/
This is a captivating write--wonderfully penned!
ReplyDeleteSo intriguing, and sometimes there are too many words. Beautiful write.
ReplyDeleteAn ode to the one who is always watching. I really like the lines:
ReplyDelete/Moments passing, glimpses stolen,
nothing solid, nothing stayed/
Pow!
ReplyDeleteAnd thus the watcher needs the narrator, or maybe not. I love the excess of the story. Bravo!
wonderful. very beautiful. choice of words makes a poet and you are truely a wonderful one!
ReplyDeleteSometimes silence says more than words...
ReplyDeleteI like the words covered in dust and the narrator telling her story.
ReplyDeleteFelt kind of a chill with her words...loved yours.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]