My Feelings

that time in the evening
of a September day
is a feeling

a time when thoughts can drift
when sound stays quiet
the road a certain hue of grey
like the sky, maybe one shade away

sometimes I look down and count the patches
kick the broken asphalt
to the dirted sides

where the trees grow
the berries bush
and flowers wild

I look harder at things
appreciate that I am
then

remember someone
think of some time
escape back to a similar place

that time in the evening
I could see into kitchens
and all those moths swarming the post-office lights

hear dogs and guess which one
see cats and watch them go home
smell sawdust and smile

that time in the evening
of a September day
was a feeling

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