She yawns
cat-stretching
her ebon legs
on cool concrete
a cracked stoop
Hearing music
she moves her lips
silent
cadenced rocking
back and forth
pats gently her hands
quiet percussion for
a silent tune
She glances at
the overgrown lawn
the street in repose
the houses
the sky
and lapses to a flat stare
at a hazy august morning
