Four

Here on the rooftop

the red stone stings like hot coals

as it reshares the sun’s generous warmth

with the world.

 

Here on the rooftop

I am at sea,

alone

yet surrounded

a fleet of antennae protrude like masts of ships.

 

Here on the rooftop

I melt

with both warmth and gratitude

my skin glistening, my teeth exposed to the sun.

 

Here on the rooftop

a small bug crosses my line of sight

he goes about his day

quiet,

diligent.

 

Here on the rooftop

I lie amongst the clouds,

noting the disparity between my peaceful microcosm

and the bustling hubbub of the streets below.

 

Here on the rooftop

tranquility I have,

tranquil I am.

The day is mine; I am alive.