sometimes it is
an instant slowness of time
a moment that can scarcely be seen
like the movement
of the eye of an insect
before the iguana's tongue strikes

other times a moment can be
a lifetime of longing

the rain drips through
the leaves fast or slow
knowing nothing of it

and the two lovers
concealed around the corner
fool no one by hiding
in the dark shadows

If pleasure requires prolonging
slowness is not to be misconstrued
with the scent of the cherry blossom
just before it opens