
Old Venetian blinds,
gateway to the great outdoors
as limbs start to fail.

Old Venetian blinds,
gateway to the great outdoors
as limbs start to fail.

Perfectly portioned,
meticulously maintained;
garden plants don’t care.

We lie on the grass,
counting the faults in our stars—
till we stop counting.

Merging into one,
the many shades of orange—
summertime sunset.

At ten thousand feet,
I awake dazed and confused
with the rising sun.