he presses on
a cane in each hand
taking his own sweet time
but in motion
always in motion
spring sun casts
dappled light
at his feet

she sits on the bench
in the washeteria
legs out in front of her
body quiet
dark eyes bright and observant
her mother checks the clothes in the dryer
and smiles
the washers sing

brother
sisters
the moment passes
the moment holds still,
and doesn't yield.