Murmurings

She walks past
and exhales, "Sorry,"
giggling to herself,
staring ahead,
gone.

A black man on the train
sits with his bike,
saxophone, flute -
he turns to me, asks with a smile,
"Do you know how to identify the difference
between an English and an Australian accent?"
He exits at West 4th street.

A tall man mutters
in the Double Dragon
Chinese take-away restaurant,
"Do you know, have you heard about the deflation of the dollar?"
as the man in a suit bends down
to pick up a dropped quarter.
The server pretends to hear, makes eye contact
as he scribbles orders on a notepad.
The man thanks the server for listening.

I sing under my breath,
"Keep the jacket, just bring it back to me someday,"
and mutter my to-do list,
"Edit two essays, make chili, consider yoga,"
and greet my cats, "Hello babies! How was your day?"

In a sea of anonymity,
it is nice to verify
that you are not a ghost
passing through a moment,
gone in an exhale.