Room #11, Windows Open

and now then light

the little lamps, the ones that

though they don't do much work

still need to be on

and look out past 

the church tower, past

all the thrumming of 

the porch, the paths, 

look beyond the two tall

trees to the right

and find the invisible line

that separates

sea from sky, or

doesn't

at this time of day

listen to the French horn, 

the gull, the shiver of 

the branch by the window, 

the Canadians

come to know the way the 

palest blue, on the edge

of the farthest everything

rings true, goes beautifully

into the center, 

so that 

when you feel it come, that joy, 

to rest within 

your stomach, 

you're almost 

sick to it