On Pausing

He sat himself by blades of grass. Sunrise made a fish stomach of the sky. Bullet of plane through fillet. He wondered at his wrists. A rabbit on a log the size of hands. Four blocks left a man installed the fiber optic cable. Elsewhere others did everything. He thought. His thoughts curled, and the curls snagged on each other. The sun had risen. The rabbit had left. Ladder returned to truck, truck returned to lot, man returned to office of synthetic cool and sun rays cracked across all earth. He stood, his blood fell from his head, vision blurring into settled dregs of daytime wherein what was left to do was walk on home.