Time Out

The last of the lingering summer is hushing outside, the air is heavy, and biting.  It's eerily quiet; a loud contrast to what the season past held in it's hands.  For as much as is up in the air, hanging on for answers, it's no wonder the weight of the atmosphere is pressing me against the Earth.

There's not much more that I can do but hold on, listen and wait it out.  A whole new season is at my feet, waiting for me to walk it's path.  Thing is... my feet are heavy with exhaustion.  I think I'll just sit a while and watch the people go by, and make up their stories in my head.  When they see me I will smile, and maybe they will wonder why.  Maybe they will be envious of the sitter, watching the passers by.  And one day, maybe someone else will just sit down in the silence, and watch with me.  

And maybe by then...the cold will not seem so bitter.