Contained

because I am contained,

for the moment,

at the intersection

of cinder block walls

and LED lights,

I push my vision

into the middle distance

where lack of focus

allows me to see

puddles and sunshine

competing for dominance

in a November world.

I replace the electric hums

of this inside world

with fooling winds,

which come in slowly

but still sting with cold.

my dry, warm, feet

feel the shifting

layers of sodden leaves

and I slip

and find myself

with pencil in hand,

and coffee that has cooled

and time

has passed.

again.