Bird's Eye View

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Black socks

folded neatly, in little piles,

a slight bend forward and

a seat on the edge of the bed.

Elbows on thighs

clasped hands

an upward tilt of the head

and a moment for thought.

"Bird's eye view," he says.

As handsome as ever.

And there I sit

fulfilling my writing prompt

of how we'd appear to a white bird gliding overhead

or a black one:

handcrafted boxes side by side

concrete between us

glass in all directions

cars on the streets

and people on sidewalks.

Noises to my right, an open door

it's Friday night and folks are celebrating.

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