Favorite
It was my favorite
Lying on my back on the couch
Looking up and out of the window
Watching the trees against the sky
The leaves were light green
In the sun, ever moving in the wind
Their patterns the beginning
So high, and maybe cold, but not cold here
The sky was bright blue
A white cloud or two for variety
But mostly the color of thought
Shading darker as time went on
The window frame was brown
Dark and unchanging
The outside through the window screen
Divided into little squares
Here the trees have fronds or spines
The sky is gray with smog
The window frames are painted white
The cold has come inside.
Copyright 2000 Rich Puchalsky
E-mail: rpuchalsky@att.net
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Last modified: April 23, 02000