When I Moved to Manhattan

when i moved to manhattan
i put my bed against the window
so i could easily pretend 

i am laying in pastures of grass 
as i obsess 
over the sky
i imagine the unspoken conversations that take place up there
the birds conspire 
always in such a race against the clouds. 
i wonder if the clouds even notice
they never change their pace. 
the birds flutter and flap vehemently 
while the clouds just glide
appearing to know exactly where they are going 
paying absolutely no regard to time
and certainly not worried about anything beneath them.