The clouds look
Just right today

In between yellow
Green branches

And parking lot
Light posts

The people coming
Out of the garden center

Hop on one leg
And feel the breeze

Upon their hair while
Gently caressing their face

I look at the sky again,
From the windows

Of my small hatchback
With my feet out,

The sun upon my skin,
And a lit cigarette

On my left hand, while
I write this on my right

And I think and think
And think and think,

While reading “time is
A mother” by vuong

I don’t have much time,
I have to clock in again.