When I close my eyes,
I stand again before that window
As the sun slips
Into the shallow water
Of early evening.
Cars cross, trucks cross,
Someone on a bicycle crosses
The high-rise bridge
Linking distinct worlds.
In the silence,
I weigh the value of this one,
How it responds to the voice of the sea.
I feel the fading warmth of daylight
Through the pane
As blue drifts into purple.
The white heron and the blue,
The osprey and the stork
Are out of my range
As they perch on the salt-dried trees
Along the Intracoastal,
Silent and waiting.
The sun slips away,
And so does the heat.
I feel it
At this window
As I think of those birds
And what it means
To return.