i don’t know
how long it
had been
since i cleaned
the glass doors
leading
to the small
fenced in
slab of concrete
where my new
sparrow friends
like to
congregate
how many
assorted
emotional
breakdowns
did that grime
protect
my neighbors
from witnessing
how many
fevered kisses
stolen
from damsels
that ended up
leaving me
in distress
how many poems
written
with a view of
an obscured
landscape
filtering over
the words.

it is odd
how with
a small effort
all became
so clear
as the coffee
steams up
and the birds
cock their heads
waiting
for the fool
to pontificate
upon a world
he isn’t
truly part of
apart from
by choice
the mockingbird
bows
as he trills
her name
in the same
plaintive tones
as me
a sparkle in
the black orb
and i watch
the world outside
no longer
unaware
now an active
participant
instead of
a bystander.

it boggles
my vapid mind
how many things
were left
unseen
whether from
laziness or
unwillingness
to accept
the truth
obscured by
the filth
accumulated
over my own
everchanging orbs
the detritus
windblown into
the corners
of my own
soulscatter
serenades
hording everything
because letting go
has never been
my strongest
ability
unless it is
hope in myself
now i sit
surrounded by
white garbage bags
of emotional baggage
that kept me
unable to move on
under their weight.

the birds and
the squirrels
approve of this
sudden shift
to self approval
singing to me
of the sun
that always rises
of the woman
with wildflowers
in her eyes
of giving up
on things that
only poison
and giving in
to trying to be
functional
of fat worms
in the tall grass
grubs in the bark
all the things
taken for granted
in this mess
inside my head
the light
from the sun
never seemed
so hopeful
as when it is
unfiltered
by the layers
of drifting
inconsequentialities
obscuring
this world of beauty.