within the confines of this white window frame
is a small rectangle of wind-blown world
showing a teasing blue-sky piece of herself
just the shoulder of a roof across the street
bright beneath the vibrant sun of a rising day
while the scant brush of tree leaves and branches
is moved like green semaphore in the breezes
flashing light than dark than light again
and there in the upper right corner
beyond the criss-cross barely there grey of the screen
i can see out through the cloudless expanse
and know there is nothing between me and endlessness