i hear forks on plates clink in an apartment nearby.
the brooklyn sun shines through my window and it’s quiet today, saturday.
somewhere there is gospel singing, lauryn hill blaring, a bus gaining speed, birds waxing poetic on the kings county trees….
my plants, newly watered, smile at the noon late summer light… this is a good day for softness, for space away from work and space into myself. this is a good day for parks and bikes and watermelon. coffee sipping for three hours after waking up from my first full night’s sleep in weeks.
no rushing, no fretting about names or numbers or trademark copyright payrate dogma idealism philosophical heartaches….
this is just fine here, me, my plants and the sun. and brooklyn number one.