The hand picked up the object
From the end table. The lamp
Was lit. The legs crossed themselves.
The fingers tapped a little.
They were always tapping some.
The lips pursed. The eyes looked down.
Twilight settled into night
And collected Christmas lights.
The sound of a basketball
In the park across the wall,
Rattling a hoop and backboard,
Stopped. There had been an earthquake,
A small one, a single boom
And rattled detonation
That could have been mistaken,
Almost, for some construction
Earlier that afternoon.
The eyes looked up at the blinds.
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