something in the air
a poem for winter days
Half-faded crosswalks zebra-stripe the streets, The faraway hand glows red, like the cracked paint on my lips. I exhale. The air comes out as a cloud of white, Miniscule particles fading into nothingness. I inhale. Smoke. From a cigarette—not my own, though, Secondhand. Feels worse, almost—not my choosing. I look to my right. My pavement neighbor, leather briefcase in one hand, Big, fat cigar (a correction), in the other lifted to his wrinkled face. I look to my left. No other pedestrians on our side of the road, but There's the rush of vehicles, fuming like monstrous metal dragons on their way. I look down. My boots, scuffed from years of wear, Loved like a dear friend, used like a worthless tool. I look up. Cars slow to a stop, a rapid pulse of clicks rings through the air, Vibrant red flickers to fluorescent white. I step forward.
Song of the day: “Blue Skies,” sung by Ella Fitzgerald
This was incredible!! The bold lines are such a clever way to set up what’s coming next🥰
So beautiful!! 🥹