the old destinations
in the neighborhood
the shut down restaurant
where we all worked
seem silly, dramatic like
ancient ruins
the sleeping windows
summer humidity
rounding off the edges
quiet streets
lights changing for no one
crossing diagonal
soft warm rain
the way the air feels
on my thin dress
bare legs
thin shoes on the sidewalk
pregnant with nostalgia
for something that wasn't
I laugh about
feeling so motherly
towards the nothing
