I breath the wind
pulling to and from on the trees outside of my room
they look like bows, playing the taught strings of telephone wire
and the clouds scroll by like music on player pianos
and the christmas lights dancing by my breath
keep time with the music of the sky
the cracked window looks like the sprout
of a crab grass tuft of hair on a conductors head
and I breath the wind.
And this is the nature of daylight.