Quiet

I lost myself in the figure of a coat

being animated by a clown:

a simple flick of the wrist

and it had a life of its own.

Cautious small glances,

the saddest sad advances,

scribbling understanding,

and a tear fell, landing

on my khaki. I needed no

hesitance to see the genius

of this presence.

So I watched it again.

The immediacy dripped

its way into my head.

Not a word was said.