it’s a quiet street.
the city is large.
the street has many trees,
broad and,
in Summer,
voluptuously leafed.
breeze commingles
with the trees,
the leaves.
sun fills every crevice.
it’s a quiet street.
the city is hot in Summer.
the trees provide shade.
the breeze reminds us to breathe.
a room in the house
is encased in glass,
letting in light
from every angle.
the trees,
their leaves,
provide privacy.
the sun fills every opening.
inside,
the house is clean
and quiet.
it is warm wood
and bone white tile.
whale blue tile.
sunsetting tile.
the music is soft,
as is the breeze.
the leaves are broad,
as is the street.
the city is large.
the street is quiet.
a narcotic hum fills the air.
sun fills in every opening.
you close your eyes,
still you can see it.
your body is still,
still it is drifting.
it’s a quiet street.
the city is full of people.
trees line the street.
sun fills every gap.
zakschafer.com 