Window

where I can dangle my feet into summer-
a thickness of air
bed of pebbles
the sun bleaching life out of the streets.

A view for a small audience-
maybe they'll remember me
high up
looking precarious -
they can't see I'm leaning my weight backwards.

Bikes bounce and clatter in the car-park
trees hide 'The Dell' where the dogs dash briefly.
Wasp-hover weather
crazy scripture of flies.

Red evenings dye the panes
fill the light-bulb with opaque sky
clouds still for a moment to admire themselves
track and scar the sky for nights healing.

Storms click, flash, rumble
withdraw to the fringes of sleep.

Mornings shade rests its shoulders against the casement
evenings glare with the last stabs of heat
the sun watching me vanish
both knowing we will rise again tomorrow.