the raindrops are falling on my eyelids now, and I
tilt my head up, staring blind into the grey;
my hair is short now. I feel the wind
nip at the back of my neck, hairs rising
and it's cold, of course, always cold, and my
finger hurts still. My course I lay
towards my next destination, crowds thinned
by the approach of evening, although I, enterprising,
am still seeking that knowledge despite the cold sky
that is falling on my eyelids. I stay
a moment more, thoughts in my solitary mind
swaying the trees around me, quiet and surprising.