Three flights up, surround sound and sunlight
Views of one of the, if not, the most amazing city in the world
Depends on which side of the Hudson one lands
Shades pulled up and she spends several minutes
A sad attempt to make them even – Angel dust floats about
She believe in Angels; rather than the obvious options
A tug to the left, a little to the right; stepping back
Not perfect, a tiny bit more and the angst begins to settle
Life and all that is even has become; an add-on to the daily rituals
A step off from the first cup of coffee, the news and a quick glance
Into a magnified mirror on her dresser; added creases and a few silver hairs
She squints and dismisses with a sigh; high end skin care lined up neatly
She sits on the windowsill looking out over her neighbors roof tops
Brown stones and brick; gardens and an old bent-over apple tree
New buds, beginnings; in a few months apples will weigh the branches
As the tree leans nearly touching the cement patio cracks and chips
A red wrought iron table with two chairs sits comfortably; an old friend
She smiles, a small birds nest sitting securely between the branches
– a safe harbor, safe haven; unsuspecting prey
Sipping her coffee, holding a Starbucks New York City coffee mug
With both hands – warmth seeps between fingers; her eyes full
Tears fall; emotions seem to brink early in the morning
She’s convinced ghosts hover when the sun is rising and they linger
Long enough to touch those that will always love them; the heart expands
And holds time; fragile and still, for a moment…just long enough

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