there is something wistful
about the way the cars move along
and the way I am watching them
with such diligence
from my aloof window
even up here in my leather seat
i feel a connection to their humanity
the urgency in which they scamper
through the streets and the
sunlight
so comforting in its afternoon glow
that it makes me melancholy
because as it has reached its peak
and will soon be gone.

isn't it funny the way we assume?
that this honey veil will be draped once again?
anticipating the glint of another windshield
as if it is written down in Time's script?

there is something sad
about the way we presume connection
with one another and with nature
the way we reflect ourselves
our existence
onto the tiny people laughing in the parking lot
and the trees that speak no tongue at all
only the language of perpetual existence
that we try desperately to decipher
with our limiting words