The boy with the face of a statue
streches his limbs like he’s truly made of marble
The man with the hands of a piano player
draws formats on the smoky air
There is no music, no relief, but for the joker
drumming on the sides of his chair
Two more men, and one woman
holding up all by herself
One of the two, a little older
leans against the wall and smiles,
while the fifth stands orating,
heavy and serious beyond his years.
The woman sits on a sofa, leaning back,
her head colliding with the wall.
The boy, the man, the drummer, the smiling one
and Diogenes move in unision
a pillow, some juice, a warm hand against her cheek,
anything to make her comfortable.
She crumbles, smiles, apologizes for her clumsiness.
The men draw back, shy in an instant,
she says something serious about the weather,
a blush, a hand through hair and
all is forgotten, back to marble and pianoplaying in the air,
fistshaking and smiles against the wall
Drumming like a battlecall
the shadows closing in.
