more

the telephone wire is nearly out of sight

between here and there

two lush trees
two grey roofs
five towering air vents
and an entire universe

were i to open the window
perhaps i could hear its children
perhaps i could taste its air

there is life

there is no wind to compel the branches
there is no rain to stain the shingles

but i’ve been outside

there was a man playing an upright bass on his balcony
there was an armadillo trotting down the train tracks
there was a charcoal smoker puffing thin white clouds

there was life

though now,
it is still

perhaps it is more