The Fizzy and The Still

she sits on the low veranda,
the night her only companion,
crickets lustily cheer her silence,
and the moon valiantly struggles through the leaves,
covering her in pebbled light,
making a chessboard of her cascading black hair,
her thoughts are distant and random,
of fleeting memories,
snatched conversations,
of the bitter and the sweet,
her mind as if browsing in a book store,
fleeting about,
easily bored, easily distracted,
both fizzy as well as still.....