are not afraid. Suspicious. The right amount
of distance maintained. Eye contact
before movement. One at a time
they stare head on, ears like satellites
positioned to capture my intentions.
Awareness of my presences infiltrates
their space. One by one they group.
Two cross their necks to whisper
in each other's ears, did you see
the human in the cemetery - is she here
for us or the dead? The people on Mount Olivet
maintain more distance. They make eye contact
with stones, ears to the ground.
I want to stare, observe
their movements as if they were a pack
of scattered deer. People spook
too easy. I am a nameless dateless tombstone.
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