Things Seen Outside the Window on the Second Floor

Outside the window Trees are painted red and gold And the yard outside Is overflown with leaves. Squirrels chase each other Crunching over the orange foliage Around the bushes And up the tree— I reckon the tree is two hundred years old. A boy walks into frame He stops at a tree And looks up Seemingly searching for a subject With a camera in his hand. Soon, He walks away. Outside the window Trees are bare. Instead of leaves, Snow blankets the grass With slivers of green Peeking through. Today the classroom is empty Void of students, For they have caught a cold And stayed home for the day, So I look outside Leaning on my hand And admire the frost That covers the leafless trees and the fence Where it cuts the school off from the parking lot. Outside the window Flowers have begun to pop up Between the last remnants of melting snow And the window has been opened For it is stuffy in the classroom. This time, The boy is back. He’s brought a friend, A girl holding an identical camera. They sit together Under the tree I imagine the boy saying, “Two heads are better than one,” As they take photos of the World around them. I notice the window says 333.