...cold november rain...

the steady rain washes the grit from my doorstep. a steady flow sluices to the grate a few feet away. a cleansing rain. it's cold outside and the light is quickly fading from the grey sky. in the shallow entry way of my building, i am protected from the wind and rain, but nonetheless am compelled to move from its secluded brick and tile into the open swell of the sidewalk.
the rain is cold. and it soaks me to the skin in a matter of moments. my t-shirt clings to me like a scared child, and i shiver at its touch. soon my hair has fallen into my eyes, torrents of rainwater mixed with american crew sting my eyes which hold fixed on the open sky.
the situation is elevating past my threshold and with the wind striking my back and face as would a whip, i hold onto this spot. this insignificant piece of concrete just moments from home, but miles from what is comfortable. i am waiting.
and as i wait something changes. man is forver afraid of what lies just outside his door. known and unknown, the world is full of random and complicating factors. so man has tried to make familiar that which unnerves him, and soon, in the rain and wind i am awash in the yellow amber glow of a streetlight.
they all come on in series. lighting a path home for many, but from this vantage, only lighting the way further away from what i know.
slowly. deliberately. i take a step to my left...