Circles Poem by Inday Prising

Here I am
listening to the sounds
of young lovers
whispering sweet nothings
to the midday winds

Here I watch
the little Maya's chirp
over the green grasses
where I lay

Here I hear
the water flow
from the little angel's mouth
mounted on the fountain

Here I sit
in this wooded chair
listening
to the heartbeat of Fate
as i think of you
and the way
you held my hand
and the way
I smile when I am
with you

But the young lovers
have gone home now
and the Maya's
have flown,
the angels have shut
their mouths
and the wooded chairs
are shattered to pieces

Still I am here
listening to the heartbeat
of Fate
as I think of you
and the way you held
my hand


*ming