Notes Through the Blinds of Our New Room

Looking through the blinds
at autumn leaves yet to fall, branches
sway up and down, up and down,
back and forth in front of our new window.

Hear the planes coming to
SeaTac, or they are just leaving.

On the half-hour the 71
rolls down 55th out back,
rattling the windows here
in our new house. Yellow and orange bright outside,
and now dark, and now bright under the streetlight
in the wind.

          There’s a cat
next door, Toes. Watch, she runs
like a dotted line at night, white paws
alone at the edge of the driveway
as headlights hit.

Published by pedalpoet

Poet, writer, and songwriter living in Seattle, WA

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