Revision: Brooklyn Dervish

Around and around, inward revolutions

             Inward and around, still increasing speed

                        To you and around, won't you join her?

                                   Around and around, all through the night

This night:
I saw a woman spinning
on the street corner
like a Brooklyn dervish,
holey sneakers
smoothing the concrete,
kicking up gravel
and old candy wrappers                                       

This, the story
of her life:
ecstatic visions
born of mean streets,
now muttering mantras
One of a choir

                        all
unheard & unheeded—
again and again

for so long,
why expect
different this evening?                                        

I try to listen,
I want to see
what I might learn
but quickly find
I lack the vocabulary:

palms too soft,
my shirt cuffs
are unfrayed                                        

I have nothing to offer
but cold change
culled from couch cushions

I wouldn’t dare interrupt.