revisited, places, things, actions, a world not just mine, not anymore, i've been here before, things look familiar, at least feel familiar, this is not mine, this place, this town, the streets i walk down, the restaurants i pass, the tables on which i do my art, all these and more, so powerful just being there, in fields of elysian vision, pyrrhic loves, so much memory, persistence of thought, of feeling and emotion, to escape, and run away, to greener pasteurs, to lofts or converted churches, to places i can call home, to kittens or dogs, to a cat as svelte, and a harsh mistress called ultimate, so much pain from so much joy, from so much to just me. and so the world changes a little, the same things through different eyes, from a perspective i carried for a while, and had enjoyed, i'll enjoy again. the rain hasn't come yet, and i look for it, to appear, to show, to visit, the clouds cover most of evanston, there is nothing besides this town, this city, a model inside a snowing globe, and for a few more months, where i will be home.