From My Window

It’s raining and dark outside this morning. I drink coffee at my improvised desk. I will warm up with some declarative sentences, although I have nothing in mind to write later except perhaps a short story that involves the legendary UCLA basketball coach John Wooden, and who wants to read about that autocrat.

A couple of crow perch in a swaying deciduous tree.

I hear geese somewhere in the distance.

A Tri-Met bus rolls past.

Another bus goes by.

People walk their dogs.

Someone is rifling through the bottle bin on the street.

My coffee is weak.

I saw a kind of fort in a wooded city park yesterday.

I also saw two homeless men sitting on the concrete having a conversation.

I’m not sure what day it is.

I have to drive downtown today.

Perry Mason is on in an hour.