tired birds

You just drift, sitting in traffic, wiping a stain from your jeans, watching the lady with the cigarette jaw, the violent hum of the truck, the cold slow weight that is all about.

I am worried something has been mortally wounded, and that maybe I won't ever feel so strongly again. I know it is ridiculous—it is ridiculous. So maybe, this survived brighter in my hopes, than in actuality. And maybe, I am just tired, to wonder about anything at all.