Mean streets have become mossy
and I wonder how my feet feel
traveling over wobbly chestnuts
versus urine-soaked pavement.
The whoosh of a fresh fall wind
versus the hum of a subway
with its reeking hot air and rattling grate.
The shadows of trees versus churches.
We pray where we stop a minute.
My view is frost-covered and sparkling
and all I can think
is how I’ve become invisible and irrelevant
because I’ve made it so.