Looking Out The Window Through Bare Feet

“Ten passed six and the stars had taken refuge/

I found myself in wait for the blackbird…
(the red-feathered,
red-tipped beaked one that met me there on occasions in search of wheat-bread crumbs
and sunflower seeds)...
to find its way to rest outside my window/

The summer wasn't virgin anymore/
The way its sun tongued and caressed my naked feet made it evident/

And the sky was quilted with what
looked like powdered orangish
grays in its horizon, like that picture I once saw in Jack London Square a hundred twenty three months
ago/

“Sorry friend, but I have nothing for you today!”

It seemed to have read my mind.

It turned around, looked back at me and smiled, spread its wings and flew off into the morning!"