Poem: Slicer Of Amorphous Time

Mid-afternoon...
on a Wednesday in September...
Grey skies wrapping themselves
over and around my perch in the sky...
The sound of wheels on wet roads...
rising and falling...
with permission granted or denied
by green or red lights...
Perhaps I am fortunate not to have to ask
permission of anyone...
to write a poem or sing a song...
Perhaps I will continue to be made
a strong slicer of amorphous time...
being what I have to be
as a rain drenched and undramatic day...
unfolds...slowly...
perhaps...........perhaps..............
...............Quester