For Just a Moment

by Vibhuti Vijay

From my window, the trees are so still —

leaves suspended, emerald and lime pendulums

swinging as the trunk stirs,

that sweet swaying eden,

heaving a sigh,

nothing more,

not now.

At night the tropical air, weary and worn, drapes

itself heavily over my skin, clinging,

inch by inch tugging sweat from my pores,

pooling in the arch of my back — suspended —

anti-gravity.

That sweet eden, oh,

I drink it in.

For just a moment,

I am still.