I have been inside doing nothing of consequence all day,
just staring out the window and wishing for things
I should know better by now
The stale air becomes stifling and so I leave, walk down the street
All is sent awash in faded greens, blooming oranges
The asphalt is speckled with weak sunlight
I pass the Spoken For sign that has been up
for weeks but has yet to yield any new neighbors
I pass the little garden patch where yellow daffodils unfurl
despite the sharpening wind
A dog howls in the distance and I smile
There's so much to do at home, but it can wait
I pass the leaves, scattered and broken upon the ground
under the soles of many careless shoes, including mine
Especially mine
Their heads lift from the pavement every now and again,
nodding up to the trees from whence they came
as if to say I'm here, still
So much effort, and for what?
The trees don't nod back and the winds have seceded,
gone back to some far-off palace in the sky
Clouds are rolling in, the angry kind
that hate to forgive
No rustling in the branches above,
no swirling of the broken-backed leaves below
Late afternoon is surrendering
to whatever unseen evening lies ahead
I shiver, turn around, walk back
At least I can confirm in good conscience that
I didn't wish for this