© 2008 J.E. Stanley

October in Mourning


After days of no rain,
the path still damp,
the leaves all drooping.

Back on the asphalt walkway,
the full hips of the woman
ahead of me sway in time
to the Kidneythieves,
singing "Black Bullet"
through my Walkman headphones.

The police car stalking speeders
on Big Creek Parkway
makes me wonder, irrationally,
for the hundredth time,
if my past in Philly
has finally caught up to me.

A couple stares at the sky.
Four buzzards dance
a slow, ominous circle.

On the drive home,
a funeral procession
blocks the intersection
of State and Snow.

I sip the last of the black coffee,
now cold,
bitter.