I’ve just awoken.
In a tiny bed,
in a little apartment,
in this warm summer night.

I look up, and stare through
the open skylight,
the stars dance before me,
puncturing black velvet.

I rise and walk across the room,
passed the gaping balcony doors,
and fluttering white curtains.
Wood squeaking and light snoring
the only sounds,
even as I reach the open window.

I fold my arms on the ledge and
rest my head.
All is still, distant lights brush
a soft orange glow
over cramped red roof tops.



I breathe in and look out at
this new, but familiar town,
this country.

For a while I stay there, until
I walk back to my bed and close my eyes,
just as the suns slides up the hill,
and the stars settle down to sleep.