untitled 4-24-10

It's windy outside.

I'm sitting on the roof of

my building as I watch the moon

through periwinkle clouds

and the blowing of unblossomed

springtime storms dance with the branches

and stalks of the trees and grass.

The building shelters me,

for which I am grateful,

and only the strongest gusts

reach me in the form of gentle breezes.

A man walked by and my heart

fluttered with the thought of being caught.

I am where I am not to be.

But this weather brings clairvoyance.

I think clearly,

not because the cherry

blossoms play at my feet,

but because I am me.

I am me,

but writing it makes me something

different entirely.