mood music

returned into the regime of routine and still adrift in some ways, that feeling of standing slightly outside, if i were another then maybe the mutter of objectivity would whimper but in reality it's no more than subjectivity from a differing angle...and looking in at the stage it seems that structures remain in facade whilst the innards fall apart, yeats' gyres swirling upon the passing days...the weather fits the mood of the place, dull rain and sullen clouded skies and a quietude of necessity...and, in those moments where the dimming day casts whispers and scents, something of an old song, a refrain of elsewheres beneath flickering streetlights...