Morning rain taps the
bustling greenmarket’s shoulders.
I study and think.
Brakes slip and wind pulls,
rain-sheets Rothko my vision.
I’m still having fun.
Public Radio
from Colorado brings me
All Things Considered
Not sure if I’m done
mourning my past, but I know
it’s time to move on.
Afraid of failure,
I try on and off new mes.
Metamorphosis.
