roy herndon smith
before abstraction
the two men walk by, they raise
they drop their arms, hands
the rhythm, the rhyme of
talking, not talking, before
body and spirit
flesh sings silence, noise
into language, the lace curtain
waves in the window
bits of shadows, light
flit over the walls, before
time composes space
the woman in white
with her parasol walks by
her skirt waves up, down
dust 