“It is to a different rhythm, perhaps.” And she paused, glanced up at clouds,
“You stir in me,” she began again, then, as the wind lifted flowers to hear,
“you stir in me a dance. I left, but the dance — the dance did not leave me.”

RD Savage

Tuco heard her voice.
He turned and just watched her
walk up the path
not looking for him.

He waited
for her to turn
her face up
toward the door
where he watched.

Then
he saw
the slightest hint
of her stirring to dance.

The wind lifted the branches
up and away
from her path
as she turned,
finally,
to see him
waiting.

And she smiled.
He saw the dance stir
once more
and felt it
in his heart
as well.

She handed the groceries to him.
Then the light hug
as she moved past
into home,
cool home.

She turned
and asked,
"when shall we
do that trip along the coast
from Port Angeles
again?
All the way down
to San Francisco

just
slow driving."