A Far Window
The sound of stones
on metal
near the empty arena
rings you back.
The sound of grazed laughter
echoing from boy to man boy
fills your screwed-down bench
with casual questions
Time to lip-synch your place
in everyone else's home.
You ruffle your hair
and imagine their vision of you.
Now you must fly, fade or fold
so you turn back
and face the wind,
fascinated by a far window.
No harm done.
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