Brunch

Here's the thing, she said,
apropos of nothing:
Life is a series of moments.

I have had a few
strung together, enough
to give a sense of animation.

She tells me about
the day her daughter knew
she wanted to be an actress.

Every word illuminated
with a parent's pride,
tinged with hope & fear.

I could foresee the moments
of cattle calls, of sacrifice,
of art seeking commerce.

Yet there was nothing to say,
sipping the dark roast
rapidly losing its power.

The windows showed
Sunday morning tableaus
that she once adored.

Calm before storm
was the forecast
& as a cloud burst,

that thunder's crack
released a flood of feelings
& strong connections.

It washed up gutters,
deepened all colors
made whispers shout.

We are the water's
flow this ravenous day,
rushing along with memories.

She wipes tears away,
leaves a generous tip,
& taxis rescue us,

going different ways.