Friday, April 12, 2019

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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