She hardly knows me
yet she sleeps.
Years ago your hand hovered
a heart’s space from mine—
you hardly knew me . . .
The cat sleeps while
I trace years, patterns:
swinging wrecker balls
bridges touching islands
as memory of your hand
hovers
against my skin.
(For more poetry by Carlene Tejada’s “Blue Pearls” go to www.totalrecallpress.com or amazon.com.)