I stood on the pavement feeling drunk with the awareness of too many hours the manhole cover cold and soaking through my feet into tiny bird bones I bruised as a child running down steps too fast. and I was standing so slowly, in my memory the world spun around me with the trees, the yellow early morning light, green traffic signs and all silent on the street another world another year and no way to go back and see it again.
Copyright FHW 2010
I started to write 2006, because this is when the memory is from. But the poem is new.