Where it Not
No one paid attention to details.
The day became clear in bits, there was no time
Someone disappeared at the corner.
A wind blew, it was
cloudy. The sun emerged
Nothing hurts as it once did.
Were it not so short a time it could have been fun.
Boulevard Sébastopol was snarled
by traffic, but the bus inched
It was clear that I was late.
My past and future shone to the same degree.
by Israel Pincus
from Poetry International Web