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the veil of gray is letting go of a light january rain

sliding down smudged windows we cannot open

spoiling the nearly dry earth we nearly got to work in

dropping from the outstretched arms of the leaves that survived winter’s disdain

pooling upon the blacktop ruins

only to be kicked up by the turning of ambivalent cars

for the sole purpose of drenching my parched soul (slowly breaking)

that has been

(on wabbling knees of the spotted fawn)

standing

waiting

at the inevitable crossroads

since the dawn of morning

waiting

breath suspended

for something

to move

.

i am left to lift my trembling voice

(above the breath of the street passing by)

in praise.

it is all i know to do.

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