5-30 This is Alone

This is Alone.
I muse to myself.
As I walk,
bending my head,
to pay homage,
to the crooked,
sylvan god,
of my evening,
vegetarian chocolate,
weighing heavily,
in my sweatshirt,
heels sore,
clicking on the cement,
one by one,
they have spun out of my circle,
and laughing,
made their goodbye,
while the fire eaters
be-bopped,
and our generation,
struggles
to sell their wares,
glimpses of our future,
caught in the glint and glitter,
of the trash re-imagined,
these were mine own,
these musings,
groups swirled,
and flowed around me,
but I stood out,
tall,
alone,
but this is how,
I have come to know myself,
tiger in the grass,
moon above my shoulder,
alone.