I looked from the chair beside the window

where the night sky can taste the late hour.

Here the tally of joys and intentions

weigh themselves against the whimpering

sighs of another. Another whose chair

beside another window in another place

sees a night sky pillowed and smooth

and takes what few, rumpled clouds remain,

hiding from the dark, ready for the day.

And, in an eye-twinkle of quickening whimsy –

simply walks away.

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