i can hear birds past
the sounds inside my earphones.
silhouettes of palm trees, rigid shadows
against a sky like blue-green ice,
like ocean water – the kind you can see through.
later also, a flagpole.
later also, buildings.
i am followed by the morning i would follow;
it is just here at my nude right hand,
behind my elbow, in my head.
later it is shingles of reflection
at the glass side of a corporate building.
the people who aren’t there don’t wave and smile.
a stop light sprouts, interrupts my path.
so i sit beside the waking day,
i sit inside it.
arriving at work
i reach to scoop a handful of it from the air
into my pocket… breathe it deep,
then walk inside.