Walking Alongside the Curb...

...trying to keep more than just my feet in line. The brisk night air cuts like knives through my brown cotton shirt, letting me know I'm alive. Looking down, the curb has disappeared. I turn my eyes to the stars. With an empty hand, no one at my side, the shooting star is nothing but a memory, a hapchance, a line in a journal. Smoke trails off from the cathartic red light tip. Inside, I'm sure my phone is ringing - and I'm glad I left it behind. Out here my mind is as clear as the twilit sky. Inside lie the questions of classes, careers, years down the road; money, parents, and roommates; food, hygiene, and clutter; more questions every day, with still naught for answers. Out here it's one step at a time. Tomorrow will come in its course. For now I handle today. Tomorrow is a degree and a career. Today is one homework assignment.
Again with skyward eyes, I don't stress or worry about when each and every star will streak across the sky, what path it will take, or what will happen when all have fallen; I watch tonight's shooting star, tracing its path. I know it's gone, and I prepare for the next, amidst glances at all the other wonderous specks of the Milky Way.
Opening the door, I bring my starlit lesson inside. Tonight I don't worry about a career, graduation, or next quarter. I focus and complete my assignment, one problem - and one cup of tea - at a time.
Tomorrow will come in its course. Today I take one step at a time.