We Should Write Together - Nov. 17, 2022

if I write every poem

just looking out the window

they all start to feel

like pictures paintings

two dimensional landscapes

a play of sun and shade

that the wind bends

right and left

warm enough yesterday

to open the sliding door

smell the jasmine

hear the sparrows argue

a distant plane drone out of sight

never alone of course

when I step outside

always the me walking

with my senses

among the trees and grass

the flowers and the moving sky

and the other me

on a stroll through a

morning field inside me