skyline

it is night, almost mid, and i sit here summarizing hebrew newspaper articles and learning פועל. from my window, the few inches of shutter i have left up to encourage air flow and discourage mosquitoes show building four to the far left. there is one bedroom i can see from mine, on floor nine, on whose wall i notice an ancient map of the world. they are usually up later than i but the wall is dark. overhead a helicopter whirrs, and on the street an occasional car drives by. ahead is an apartment complex, with odd windows lit but revealing nothing beyond a haze of white or yellow light. over the roofs, past the rows of laundry shifting in the breeze, i gaze at an inch of the sparkling lights of jerusalem. they are yellow, green, white, and orange, i see no buildings but only lights, and these lights are my life.



the clouds today moved and danced and swam about. here, from my window, is the tail end of building four and the apartment complex and laundry drying across the street.