And Here's No Greater Matter

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.