It’s positive outside tonight
positive for the year’s start, and positive
apart from the pungent waft each time he shouts.
He doesn’t know he shouts.
He doesn’t know the air —
Hmm — is moist all around.
He doesn’t know, in low light,
the road glistens behind his grey cigarette cloud. He doesn’t see
cars turn our corner into a ballroom with red and yellow
lights that dance bleary circles to entertain us.
He rehashes some thought playing on his mind
unaware the light-play takes me miles away and
there I am no longer an anthropologist.
He shouts and wobbles left a few steps then back again
convinced we can meet eye to eye deep.
I imagine he swims inside his own head and
through the deepening mist, but
with it positive outside tonight, I glow and
glow as if courted by a prince on a pendulum
Hmm a prince who dangles rocks before me —
Oops! — those are rain drops,
Aah . . . but they’ll do!