I hate windows! Give me a balcony to heed the world.

BalconyI want the rain to wet my skin, the wind to tousle my hair, the hot to inspire sweat and the cold to shiver. I do not want to observe through a pretty picture window. Let me be the lone figure stopping by the woods on a snowy evening.

The balcony should be just high enough that I can see the faces of my fellows and hear their voices but not make out the words. As in opera, their actual meaning never rises to the music.

And, should I fall, have a decent chance at survival. If only to inform one more poem.


(I intend to be at the Fly Leaf Books open mic on Thursday and hope to read a couple of my poems from Brazil. Join me!)


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2 Responses to Balconies

  1. Will says:

    But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep ;)


  2. kismet says:

    I love balconies too😃


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