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.