Eye of the Storm

Midnight
stuck at the intersection of Yates and Cook
with nowhere to go
watching the walk sign go through the motions
as if beckoning
and me too zoned out to get the message.

Sometimes
by My Bloody Valentine
cues up on shuffle
and the trees hit their mark
and let loose their cherry blossoms in the wind
to twist and dance down onto my shoulders
like flakes of snow.

I’m okay.

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