She sits across the courtyard with a laptop in her lap tapping away at her keyboard, long fingers seemingly never stopping, forming words and sentences most likely informing colleagues of the latest or replying to their questions about what's next. Staring occasionally out into the trees lining the courtyard, she alternates between sips of whatever is in her Starbucks cup, likely a latte, and her Swell water bottle, likely fruit flavored water. Suede Birkenstocks, yoga pants, a light strappy t-shirt, and hair pulled back into a long ponytail, arm her for the day, remote and far away from any office or staid workplace. A breeze picks up, swaying the trees, flickering their leaves like floating shards of glass and blowing the young woman’s pony around her head and across her face to her mild aggrevation. Her concentration broken, she flicks her hair back with her left hand, squints into the trees and inhales the breeze through her nose, her mouth closed. She pauses and shivers as the breeze sends a chill across her bare shoulders. She closes her laptop, collects her drinks and things, walks across the courtyard and disappears into the building.
The courtyard was way more interesting when she was here!
Sometimes only a single element is required to transform a moment and when the element is gone, all that's left is the poem. Thank you, Rich!