foreign film

under a spell
I walk
through life
with eyes half open.
legs and arms limp
with dream.
i'm in a foreign
movie,
a subtle film
with a vague plot
and people whispering
over subtitles.
the light is rare,
black and white with
blue vapors,
red tail lights,
amber
lamps under a falling
snow.
i'm walking the streets
with my coat
pulled tight
up to my chin,
my breath a cold cloud
caught
by wind.
I feel the cobblestones
under my thin
shoes.
I am going somewhere,
leaving somewhere.
i stand at the corner
and rest, waiting for
the director
who sits in the shadows
to tell me what's next.