It is barely twenty degrees.
I shiver as I drag my feet
across the cold concrete
walking the parking lot,
but I’d rather be
crossing the street
heading down the road
and farther down the road.
Till, I find the Springfield library
that hall of books beckons me,
but I have to stand resolutely
staring at the children who pass me
some laughing, some chatting
some shivering and cursing friendly.
My eyes look beyond them
staring hungrily at an undiscovered country.
A CVS and Walgreens to the right of me,
a school behind me,
a brick building with white lightning cracks
in their orange rectangles
and around the corner
several two-story homes.
One with fire damage,
one with a front porch caving in,
and another just plain dilapidated.
Trees stand lonely
scattered across this urban sprawl
each one solitary
holding out its limbs
like the stranger
who stands on the side of the road
begging with cardboard pleas
for something to eat or a dollar.
I stand, drained by the cold
bored, wishing for something to happen
instead of appreciating the richness
of this weird little world around me.