On the power line outside, // a bird rests still,
I think it must be a sparrow,
as I sit // at the restaurant's long-legged chair,
Spread butter and blueberry // jam by my hand,
Upon the bread, for the share.
The sunlight renders me unable // to keep gazing,
Condensation on the window // slowly blinds my sight,
Brings me to another view.
The shadow of the pole stretches long // on the ground,
And so the waiting souls // to another world are bound.
Here at the glass façade // of Blackwell Square,
Where letters and parcels // rest by pipes with care.
Once I notice the blue stones // and fallen leaves,
Caught in the wall's // wounded corner that grieves.
Filtering time's passage, // and where birds' footprints weave,
On the surface of the plain world, // animals perceive.

People in sunlight, // like giants finely spun,
Colors dancing near yet never joining, // undone.
Golden blooms and emerald // leaves play their part,
As amber light reveals all life // with gentle art.
I watch in stillness // as the puddle slowly disappears,
Leaving no whisper // of what once was here.

They've taken flight like // birds across the sky,
Years ago, such thoughts // would make me shy,
Yes, they have gone, // this lesson I have learned before.
Like children's balls that bounce // with joyful might,
Wrapped warm in quilts, // in dreams they soar in flight,
Ascending heavenward beyond our searching sight,
While we remain, // on earth by day and night,
Forever standing on this world we know, // as the surface,
On the right.

End, at last,
Their whispered words ring clear and true,
As skies above have cleared // to perfect blue.