Thursday, November 3, 2016


outside was the first real chill wind
it crept up and numbed my finger tips
over snapping novel pages
the sky was a reflection off sidewalk cement
and the brick red buildings on the square dulled
under its gaze
those images crept into my heart
a man all in gray fell on the subway
refused all help
he rolled and his face reddened
yet he couldn't find the energy to regain his feet
he scowled at me and I hid behind my book
a woman tall over 6 feet tall
dressed head to toe in gray with her friend beside
under 5 foot wearing brick red gray scarf
they walked away from me into other nights
across the wrong way streets
I averted my eyes
each new vision brought misery
like I had gained the weight of winter
in gray somber snows
and brought them dragging from
stomach to bursting chest
to unravel like shoelaces at their expiration date
the Chicago Cubs won the World Series
dark voices screamed one hundred years of nothing
out into the night that was far away from their home
they were a happier gray than blue
even if nothing happy had changed
I am not really sure how I felt

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