In her doorway with the wind we meet. 
The irridescences on her kelloided shoulders 
Shining by turns as the pepper tree behind me 
Bends this way, bends that way, bends this way. 
The air glides along the street. 
 
She tells me her Rhodesioan ridgeback is safe. 
She tells me her adult child is safe. 
"He needs his earphones." she says. 
"Airports misuse authority." I say. 
She admires the metal in my face. 
Her hair whispers in the background 
With power that's free from wires.