From 1986 #13

I sit and stare

like a cat,

(monumentally quiet)

out the window

from the same seat as before;

a disinterested appearance

a focal change when

looks, no one may tell,

can be deceiving;

I record these moments on paper,

slipping quietly out of view;

and, the patterns are

transcribed into characters

each feature delicately described;

their interwoven stories

for a mental narrative,

famous and aloof they become,

towards their creator

as if I was never there...

and still,

I sit

and stare,

waiting...

for new faces to appear

outside my window.

December