May Time Poem by Ballerina With Fins

Do you notice, how it has just
stopped raining, and the air is colder,
smothering us in fresh sharpness,
the exquisite slapping of our shoes
against the wet ground, the light
dripping of cool rain, fish-like,
from the silvery tree tops,
the faint calmness?

Do you notice, how the leaves fall
from the trees, abstracted,
almost lackadaisical, awating
the firm ground to steady their
beauiful leaf lives,
awaiting that defining moment between take-off
and touch-down, between
emancipation and recapture?

Do you notice, how we are lost,
but not really, our souls searching for each other,
the taxis' cries haunting, Us in complete oblivion,
of the stopping rain,
the red umbrella lying forgotten on the sidewalk,
beneath cold excited fingers and
the wails of panicked ambulances?

Or were you wrapped up in your own world,
where there is not You, nor I, but only
the neon-lights in the television-dulled
dark, where Sheep are plenty, a world in
which there could never be,
You, nor, Me,
nor Us.