jack galmitz | morning in the park

Morning In The Park

In the morning,
as I slowly make my way to work,
I halt
& watch a woman
practice a fan dance
in the park.
She is accompanied
by a Chinese harp
that issues from a small
black, music box
that she has brought with her.

She moves
like the ancient oaks
that put on wood
that put on bark
heedless of the sun & dark.

As she spins,
the ends of her hands hold
the red cast wings
of birds that spread the trees
& bring the sun
(in love with common things)
to its knees.

I do not talk.
I wait & watch
her work her way
past words
to the place within herself
where all things come forth:
the red fans close.
They open up.

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