june swoon

I had a tired intuition this morning. I walked to work, wistful– thinking of nameless people I know. People who have drifted away, for one reason or another. People I think of often enough, without daring to break the silence. People that may no longer exist as I knew them, or at all. I stood in line for a coffee, hair softened by sun, feeling prim in my new feedsack dress as I handed over my small fortune. I rounded the corner and watched a man drink a small energy capsule, his daily task. Old women walked with renewed vigor on new legs, the day was that early. The brief world that is New York in the morning. The blue light, the clean feeling, the full bloom of summer. Does it dismantle when I learn of the shooting which took place this morning, blocks away from my office at a diner on 14th street?

A song for you.