I sat down for breakfast in front of my window

As I do most mornings

My window which breaks the solid ‘scape of off-white paint

And invites me into the beautiful bounty of tall strong trunks laden with lush green leaves

My window from which I have removed the safety screens so when it is open

It connects me immediately with the wild and wondrous woods just beyond

This morning I turned the white crank farther than usual, unintentionally, but done all the same

It provided a wider angle, a different view

A new reflection

This morning deep red clay bricks plunged through the center of the woods verdant abyss

The outer wall of my apartment building channeled right into the center of the forest

Mixing, mingling and making art

The rust colored wall was perfectly parallel with the burnt orange leaves of the sizable dead limb

Which has been hanging amidst the rest of the green life for some weeks now

I always think the next wind will take it away,

But it has not yet

It seems this branch still has a purpose high up here

Still clinging to its vital mother limb

Revealing the beauty which comes out of death

Death which is still visible and in your face

Death before it descends to the earth below

To nurture the cycle of life

And live, itself—anew

Once again

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