seven flights of stairs
below me lives the world
on level ground
I sit here looking out
my window, down to where
they rush around
it's not so high they look
like ants, they're more like
dolls, of doll-house size
I walk down every morning,
then I walk back up
for exercise
Where did the stars go? Is it just me? Can everybody else still see them? Well, I'm too tired to try to fix any problems that may be erasing them.
ReplyDeleteI like this. I like its calm and pleasant distance, as though from someone living in a hot air balloon, probably still tethered I suppose.