Tremble

A life: short
and blunt. Transient
in its sharp quickness.
Cold edge (final, resolute)
presses the skull,
blood flows where it has no place.

Nervous sniffing girls--
noses vibrant red and eyes
darting to some safe spot.
The boys stand (stoic,
masculine) with trembling hands.

I am a cloud--I float singularly.
They leave; an exodus
of cars. I place my feet
in the pool and I watch the bubbles.
I feel the breeze, the concrete,
the smooth white wall.
I touch a crabapple--
it is the softest thing in the world.