The fast forward speed of the city slows me down. I feel every crack of the pavement under my feet. I sing in my head. There is no beginning to the rain.Newspapers fly in the air with the grace of dandelions. Mocha lattes, and raging music propel from the backs of heads. I am still in my purpose as life moves through me and the night becomes new on the block where I live. In the elevator I reach for the keys to apt 6B.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
End of the day
The fast forward speed of the city slows me down. I feel every crack of the pavement under my feet. I sing in my head. There is no beginning to the rain.Newspapers fly in the air with the grace of dandelions. Mocha lattes, and raging music propel from the backs of heads. I am still in my purpose as life moves through me and the night becomes new on the block where I live. In the elevator I reach for the keys to apt 6B.
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