it's monday, meaning an early rise for
me and the street cleaners-
turning the leaves
liable. but i'm not a hugger.
or i wish i wasn't.
and, if the trees hold their breath in winter,
we certainly can. for as long as it takes
to burn up what was covered-
and then, i guess we'll
breathe the difference.
or breathe only on mondays, like my car does,
because its doing fine.