Monday, March 01, 2010

At dusk

In her shadow at dusk
discreetly I walk
her pace is leisurely,
and footsteps light

Her Egyptian perfume
trails in her wake
conjuring jasmines
of the night yet to come

The evening breeze
twirls around
her delicate fingers
and carries
her tales to me

She turns into her garden
and I patiently peer
through glass panes
A lamp's soft glow
illuminates her face
as she gathers
the evening's purchase
ripe tomatoes and green beans
dinner will soon be made.