Hanging Out Together Was Fun

Outside under a grey sky, when the light is easy on the eyes, and crouched against the concrete, I felt the winds damp cold. A vent blows fog as my neighbors are doing laundry; My backside is warmed, and the air smells of soap--I think of little else. When my legs began to buzz, I shifted over to another heel. No friend perhaps walking the street before me for the next half an hour, and standing, with sore knees after the vents have turned off, I walk home.