Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole

A woman speeds
down the paved road in sunglasses 
aura like heavy metal
It was a cloudy day 
in suburbia  

She walks on her runway.
A young child in hunter 
green pants
foraging 
sticks clutched in hand 
smiling eager 
“hi” 
she's close
“hi”
met in parallel
“hi” 
Ignored
his mom next to him 
remained quiet  
the blonde speeds past, a poof 
rancid mutters
I hear the mom say,
"Not everyone will say hi to you 
it is okay" 

I thought the blonde must be high 
It was 1pm on a Tuesday 
her time was too precious 
for a wave, a friendly 
hello 
she was never a child 
it must hurt to live in her skin 
in the way life squeezes lemons
over wounds, failures 
maybe anxiety, she forgot her dose? 
a poor day?
I finished my loop
she was back 
her head and spine straight,
such a win

your eyes are covered, 
lunatic

I hope you're not a neighbor.