across the fence there is an old lady who
sits in her sun chair between 11 and 1 everyday
i can see her sun room from my second story bedroom
i look down on her yard.
just as the sun begins to illuminate her frail
and withered wrists, the table side
bonzai and reading glasses

she is there until the sun has left the room
i often look down on her room while changing clothes
removing my glasses and setting them on the dresser
i squint my eyes into her sun room, looking, looking to see something