The Moment
Now I am seeing that winter
across the busy and discrete street -
The leafless poplars, the rustling sounds
when I stepped on the fallen leaves
So quiet.
Each sound was spelled out crisply
and the smell, a mixture of decaying
of decomposing,
with the last fragrance
of Life
Once, I was there
I was also absent-minded as I am now
sitting in a car
in the rain
in a city where I am becoming
a stranger
