October
Journal:
Tuesday,
October
29,
2013
Beneath
the
press
of
thick
gray
cloud,
the
light
of
morning
sneaks
like
a
wary
old
cat
about
the
louring
stillness.
It
sniffs
at
rotted
branches
shattered
up
and
down
the
street.
It
stares
down
a
shed
roof
hanging
loose
on
its
moorings.
It
climbs
about
the
ancient
oak
whose
up-‐end YCH0