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I'm walking down Lincoln again.
Droplets form against the windows.
Early morning light and shadows bend to colors,
reaching for the lenses in my eyes, which take them,
turn them upside-down,
and though I do not know quite how,
they will be turned right back around
and spit back out
through conduits and cabling,
which disassemble them for processing
from noise and light,
still frames in static
to motion and information.
I suddenly see that the reason
is everywhere around us.
Bus stop standing on the corner.
Passengers are waiting,
and I sit in silence half asleep,
and I wonder what they each are thinking:
woman with off-white woolen cap,
a young man staring at the sidewalk
where the tip of her umbrella
touches to the ground.
And the distance between strangers
can sometimes be quite alarming
but today the bus
comes to carry us
together into the morning.
I suddenly see that the reason
is everywhere around us.