The post remembers rings of rain,
rings of drought —
the spires remember seas.
____________________
The ship glides by
as if late for nothing.
____________________
Shadow of the arm falls across the seat
just so —
a sundial of sorts.
____________________
The pavement listens
to the language of still feet
spoken without words.
____________________
Balance is prayer here—
no kneeling,
just listening with fingers.
____________________
A place without noise.
After the exhale, even
Time sits down a while.
____________________
A quiet courtyard.
One seat for contemplation
nobody mentions.
