the statement – we walk into the civic square, in the full evening – has had to come from somewhere, probably on or after an experience of an actual event of civic walking ..
so, if following the remnants of the sun, we walk into the municipal evening in the downtown or maybe the municipal twilight in the center of town; then we do notice booths & chairs & police in waiting, & the tall position of buildings ..and there are complete trees that move about, side to side, while remaining in place; and there is sound, disguised as words, bouncing between people in motion ..
we occasionally bump bodily, into each other, obviously along some uneven streets, in order to adjust, & readjust, the pace & tempo of our combined experience of a valid true public walk ..
this station, a terminal of seeming timelessness, is bittersweet because it is not a location that anyone can stay for long .. we are surrounded by numerous times & multiple continents .. all interior signs; markers, game plans, offers, intuitions; point to elsewhere .. transports arrive & depart, & depart quickly .. and we can sit or pause for an hour, for a thousand brief hours, but everyone eventually, before long, moves on ..
we are surrounded by numerous decisions & multiple outcomes .. although .. it is fortunate that we have this fleeting feverish moment, bittersweet; this moment of each other, for each other; in this awkward dislocated place, as we do soon pass on to elsewhere ..
at the end, at the end of summer, it is supposed to rain or pretend to, in the afternoon .. the pretense, sly virga, is curved wind moist, the localization of color, & streams of light that evaporate in higher layers of sky .. unlike real rain which bounces, once hitting ground, bruising the body & the mind ..
today we, having disappeared into a face of a real storm, & having lain down to make a containment or make a pool of our bodies; do emerge much weathered, much renewed ..
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