I am worn. There is a bird on the sidewalk. I think it is a house sparrow. It takes hops and cocks its head at the ground. I'm sure it is looking for something and that's okay. The sun is out and I am ok. I am just going to close my eyes for a while and feel the breeze, think about things that haven't come to pass. About things that will not come to pass. It is ok.

I'm walking along the embankment surrounding my front yard. I find this hilarious. I walk duck footed with disregard to the passing cars. There is a hazy drone in the distance and cirrus clouds in the sky. Cirrus clouds are composed of ice crystals. The breeze is not cool, it's almost warm.

Sitting under a monument for world war one veterans. Can't be world war two because it doesn't specify. The river is deceptively calm and sparkling. Troops of people talk and walk and laugh. A cheese and tomato sandwich and a smile. It is okay because old friends are still friends. And we can pretend that that matters.

There just isn't anything left. You try but you can't. You grasp but you slip. Nothing was meant or not meant to be. Just all specks of cosmic dust slamming around. And nothing cares. No thing cares at all. The crisp, clear, blue and white sky is made of ice and diffracted light and indifference.