Afternoon Going Nowhere Only the winter sunlight striking through the glass and making a deeper warmth inside the mind, only the coffee steaming near at hand, only the clouds, the bright roofs of the neighbor houses, only the distant traffic humming and the sound of schoolyard children like birds and birds like schoolyard children, only the unopened book, only the garden shadows crossing the floor, only the smell that brings an absent childhood back, the ant crossing the page, the housefly rubbing its hands on the plate of crumbs, only the wilted perfume of a winter garden, only the empty…