A Breath of Sky

The curtain rod grew still. I slipped through the slightly cracked glass sliding door onto the tiled balcony. The breeze here moves freely. Coiling up the rough, fibrous trunk of a tall potted palm, I settled along a stiff upper frond overlooking the city edge. Below, vehicles crawl like steady beetles. In the distance, morning light struck the glass facade of an opposing tower, flashing like an open beacon. The wide air belongs to this height. I anchored my coils, letting the wind test my balance.