Poetry

Delicate Maneuvers

On the internet old couples 
are dancing in hazardous moves, 
back and forth, around each other, 
to pop music, loud. 
You don’t really want to watch.

**

You carefully pull away the fingers 
of the child who’s grasped your leg 
in longing for something 
not yours to give

**

You read that every year 
hundreds of millions of birds die 
from flying into glass, breaking 
into neighborhood homes. 
You don’t really want to know.

**

Soon you will raise your small, 
trembling hand to say 
you have the answer 
or think you do

**

Yet you avoid the eyes of the stranger 
walking toward you on the path 
as though you’re blinded 
by headlights

**

That sideways breath on a cat’s ear. 
Your breath. 
You don’t really want such power.