cold feet, literally

it was a november day
but it wasn't snowing.
which isn't uncommon.
but it was uncommonly
warm,
commonly breezy.
black clouds were moving in from the east.
 
it was about to storm.

i hit every light on the main road.
at each inhibiting, red beacon
the fat raindrops caught up with me.
and with each turning of the green
i evaded the worst of the clouds.
i was literally running from the storm;
running in a gas powered crunch-wagon.
the sky in front of me was powder blue and bright
obscured by my river-run windshield.

leaves fell, unyielding.
it's not winter, yet.