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Except

Except for the usual
small talk we walked
up to the Park
without waking the thrush
clash of our minds.

I watched
you from behind
your hair shone
in the green stem
of evening.

A shock
wave of fused
blood stirred
fearfully in me.
A finger probe

of breeze whipped
your hair into
a frown as we
felt the glass fragility
of deer retreating

into the dark
shyness of trees.
An omen of
Magpies fluttered
coal-blue and

banner-white as we
stood together
my hands boy
shy stammering
into paralysis.

Jimmy,

But for the absence of "the usual," your observations, presumably, would
not have taken place. Ah, the possibilities of these kinds of silent moments.