Blue crystal, that lamp is shining in a reflected
sunlight now narrowing down. It is nearing 8pm,
on another Summer night. I feel as if I've not been
outside all day, though I have. Some lady, with a
cigarette, is nursing coffee. (Yes, there are some
who still smoke). It's a quaint scene, for me - I
watch that curl of smoke arise after each inhale-breath
she takes. It's like silence, twirling about;
or the sound that silence makes.
Before too long, another 20 minutes have passed, and
she is gone. I try to think of other friends, but I cannot,
really, for I have none. I am alone, and stiff, and still.