the rain joins the pavement forcing it into agreement until it shines the color of slick seal fur.
trees and branches seem to be buying what the wind is pushing.
who would have confused this squall for such a convincer?
as bodies sylvan sway so do i.
the moon seems to be asleep tonight, or maybe she’s turning a blind eye, for there’s nary a glaze to signal her presence.
nary a shadow, i am, in her absence.
yet another day done.
this one, washed away and blown over.
.i am, therefore, i think. 