December 29, 2010

Connote

I took the elevator
to the rooftop.  I
walked out of the
moving box, opened
the door, held secure
with a huge latch, and
stepped out into the
grandness of it all.  The
immense gray sky lies on
my head as a large hat, the cement
rooftop bore the weight of
my obese body, like my shoes,
and I, intense, stretched
dimensionless, tarried at
the edge of the rooftop.
Your image stood up in
my brain as I studied the
people puny, taking a
pinch of steps on the
sidewalks.  In sync with
the view, my dysthymia
shrunk into a small
crumb.  Ah, yes, that’s
much, much, better.

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