• the_blue_notes 10w

    It is Tuesday
    in the afternoon, and I’m
    on this street, one
    the sweepers haven’t touched
    yet - probably never will.
    We cross
    traffic without looking both
    ways - some vague
    and quickly fading conversation
    about coffee or
    ambition floats our way, it’s
    hard to tell which, now.
    Here.
    Our hands are in our pockets
    our collars turned against
    a nip of little winter, it
    is Tuesday in the afternoon, and
    we cross
    traffic
    without looking both
    ways.