walking along
late at night
in the
haphazard
yellow glow
of
half-burnt out
streetlights;
wondering down
cold-crooked-
concrete,
feet placed
on slabs
inter
rupted
with the
roots of
an old oak
tree –
thoughts
barreling
along,
an
exhausting
pace;
denied the
luxury
of
a relaxed
gait –
the sudden
gust
of a confused
breeze,
not yet
committed
to the
idea
of spring.