REALITY?: Spring/Summer Saturday

My shop is outdoors inside. Whatever the weather is what I am too. Sometimes the rain tries to seep through the slats and I find myself weeping along. This morning I turned on the gas stove; now I turn on the fans. Wide open doorway tells me each time a car whooshes by and sometimes I’m touched by the fingers that trail behind radios blasting out songs. The outside’s inside, inside me though I swear I just watch it go by.