you  no longer chase after time
dreams, fulfilled or failed
don’t haunt you every night
any more

a century condensed
into a book of life
now you are reading
against the sky
framed by the window
in an afternoon

(a plane, the silver dot,
on the pane
moving slowly, and then
vanishing...
the kids in the neighborhood
rollerskating, and their laughter
the falling petals)