The early a.m. El
zigs and jerks
among bricked lives.
The rocking car
is cramped with sixty
single people
sitting, standing
within walls of human
silence.
Across from me,
a woman from a long way off
or from people a long way off
sits with nearly naked feet,
the soft flesh of her umber toes
vulnerable among hurried shoes.
Her native dress
envelops all that wants to be her body,
except for the mask of disinterest
that is her almond face.
She has gathered sight
back into her eyes
and sees little of the world
she is moving through
or moving with.
In her lap,
a brown purse waits,
full of tools she will use
to make her day.
In my mind
I ask her about her life,
where she is going,
what she has left behind,
what world she is carrying
carefully in the purse
of her heart.
7/29/08