I walked outside and the parking lot was full.
I couldn’t get away, couldn’t walk back inside
I felt the cold night air, outside were a handful
of past experiences, only adolescents concede.
Why it is at this very moment I cannot speak
if only then hundreds of onlookers at bay
Remembering then, when once I should seek
out life, and next week will become today.
For this we find a present moment
without backing or sense of foreground
only immediacy will have meant
a measure of this new muse we found.
I’ve never spoken to anyone about it.
He winced in pain and stepped above it.
© Thom Amundsen 10/2021