a most peculiar man

once he began he could not recall how a broom wound up in his hands.

all he knew was that the storefront sidewalk had to be swept clean,

stray papers to be picked up,

the glass shards, broken pebbles,

dehydrated aquamarine gum, fossilized insects.

this was his charge.

so purposely, yard by yard, inch by inch, that spindly broom whisked along, always directed mindfully of where to go next, and when to move on.

while all the while there were empty thoughts pouring or seeping in or out of his mind;

each moment was forever,

unbound, infinite…complete.

and he never paused, not for a second,

to follow the ride of some

swooping red-tailed hawk

floating above his sweaty brow.

sporadic joyful cries of children resounding, insignificant breezes fluttering

through his fingers and hair…

any acoustic babble simply melted into his gorgeous fabric of meditation,

precise consciousness.

and the sweeper never once looked up-

for nothing else mattered,

except the rhythm of bristles on concrete, candy wrappers with more candy wrappers,

and the long train emerging from

that sweet long-lost tunnel

into the daylight of nothing more

than right here, right now!

Delray Beach, 2014

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