Here

Sunlight streams in,

picks up every stain

on the bay window.

A brown leaf casually

falls through the bare

fingers of a backyard tree.

The tiny lizard crunches

through the fallen ones

to find a new place to hide.

Paint flakes off the pergola,

beige and unremarkable,

with clinging lines of dirt.

I could try to see a point here.

But I think instead

I’ll sit here with them.