shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Shay Cook


Window Watching

Some winter evenings when I wander down
the sidewalk in the dark waiting for Lucy
to do her business while minding my own,
my breath cutting through the cold, wet air

like ice, I find myself stealing glimpses into
windows that sit alongside the avenue or across
an overgrown garden, a white brick bungalow
flanked by winter-gray shutters, one lonely

lamp glowing from inside like a lighthouse
beacon guiding my curious eyes beyond
slightly open curtains where just behind them
silhouettes of people cast their shadows

prodding me to look inside and I do at the idea
of suggestions, peering into someone else's life
besides my own, a breath of breeze egging me
on, pulling me away from myself if only for a moment.