Pencil in the windows
Cars in the windows. Windows in the windows.
Windows in the windows of the windows.
Examining the windows at 1:29 pm.
Not thinking about much, looking at the windows.
Sweet glass, rare tree branch, window
window window. Examining the windows
at 1:31 pm.
Two windows in that window.
Four windows in these two windows.
People walking by the windows.
Sidewalk, sky, plenty of light now
in the windows.
I don't hear them, they can't see me
and I'm silent. Plenty of color
in the windows. Pretty gray too.
Not thinking about much in the windows.
Still same scene in the windows
somehow, it's 1:37 pm got
twenty dollars left.
Joe Bussiere is a poet living in Brooklyn. He likes to move around and look at things.