A window in my chest opens,
people below are reading
and thinking, occasionally
talking with one another
on green benches scattered
like rose petals across
a sunlit plaza, like fresh
sentences on first pages
of a novel where something
crucial occurs when least
expected.
A young girl, golden braids
flying behind her, scampers
giggling into a fountain
as two old men, canes at their sides,
cradling cups of espresso, together
nod toward the child’s delight.
Suddenly a breeze dances across
my face, turns this page
and you arrive
at my window,
smiling.at my window,
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