From my window I see a tree, lining the street. Standing tall in its rank. I see a glimpse of blue, the sun fading, a wistful sky not quite ready for goodbye.

I hear the cars, going somewhere. The arguments that won’t wait. I hear you reading in your room, not ready for goodnight.

Not ready. I think. Think on my day. The days before. The days yet to come. Unsure of where I stand. I look to the window, watch the tree.

Go on. We all just go on.



Window decoration

Stars bright, night skies. I walk tonight. Walk to where I know. This familiar path aching. Through the city, where memories linger on each corner. Out towards your place, my heart jitters, my pace slows. I stop. Look to the window. Woodwork cracked, paint peeling. The plant I use to water pushed against the glass. The leaves I cared for wilting.