the other day i stepped out into the backyard
and planted my feet hard on the concrete.
i could feel it in my soles.
i looked at the sun until i could still see it
with my eyes closed.
there was a siren somewhere
and planes were moving overhead
and she was loudly turning the pages of the sunday paper.
she said i should think about slow time.
i said about what?
slow time she said. like when time moves slow.