Sometimes, I howl in agony
in the evening,
when the sky is that soft,
orange, glow and
when the snow falls
with a hushed pelting along
the sidewalks.
The world just outside my window
moves about lazily,
mockingly,
slowly,
and I cannot break through
the reinforced screen to shove
them along,
to hurry them along,
to will them to go
about their routines faster.
I am no master of time,
a dreadful thing I’ve come to realize.