its hot. tuesday’s wednesday, it’s thursday-time to leave…come back again. the winds monsoon. the dry night.  its dark as sunrise as moonrise, the limbs leap and gallop, And forgotten on the streets. the oil slick slides into a gutter

tell me, will this (please) never end?

at dusk…The lights leap over the bridges, the wind blows the trees And then the rain comes…

Warm and sweaty, it becomes your second skin. You soak it in..

today i saw this. i wanted to remember it-

an older asian man wearing dress pants and a blue snow jacket with a hood. he was walking forward slowly with his head down and hands behind his back. he wore slightly oversized brown shoes with toes pointed out hitting his ankle down first followed by his toes. his feet were slapping the ground, but still he was walking smoothly, naturally. it was beautiful.

he wasn’t in a hurry–just slowly taking his steps to get to his destination