the sound a skateboard makes on the street
movement yet it reminds me of no one in particular
     and I walk
with a purpose because gas is high yet I’d choose to walk nonetheless
I arrive at my destination and consider
yes, maybe, then finally no
a familiar tune but still, mine
I am ready and the process has been, at times, brutal
the wheels though
often turning slowly as change does
all the while I have felt as if I’m spinning, spinning, out of control
     then it ends
begins again only cleaner, starker, more melodic
much like when it finally stops raining
the sounds on the street, skateboards and loud talkers, resume
and to my ever slightest joy, finally I think of
     no one in particular