sitting here while morning light thumps
down in the courtyard, making the trees
quiver just a bit, or is that a passing truck?
Brooklyn is dipping into autumn, sandwiched
between the heat and stench of summer
and the mystery of a dusty sweatshirt
I haven't worn since last March. I think
about all the stuff I need to do
and then I think I'll never get anything done.
Today I'll sit and gaze at workers
constructing scaffolding on the front
of the building across the street,
and later, I'll listen to the high whine
of a leaf blower scattering dead leaves
across the courtyard. That's enough for one day.