Which of us can say what exactly it was that
made it such a stunning image? But both of us
caught it, the timing perfect, as we drove down
South Avenue after a long day of loading books
and records, CDs and DVDs into a 24-foot truck
at an old house out in the north hills of Pittsburgh.
Was it the long hours we had worked on a Sunday
or was it the light of the day over the laundromat?
Or the unbridled joy of both girl and dog dancing
in their small circle in the busted gravel of the lot,
leaving their feet and returning to the ground again?
It was no doubt all of those things, and perhaps
something else, something like the word duende,
an inarticulatable feeling, like the birth of a song.
— Scott Silsbe
Scott Silsbe is a poet who works for Caliban Book Shop and lives in Garfield.