at the mouth of the alleyway, entranced by the streetlight upglow into the yellow leaf undercrown, bewitched by a roadwork stop/go light in the pounding rain. The pasteboard masks and backdrops pass behind the moving faces and chit-chat encounters of my everyday. If it’s worthless why am I drawn to hop off and snap it? I might be moth to candle and cat to string? But always that hidden sense that something’s coming, that you could find it around the next corner and let it change a living part of you.
