A Thursday afternoon

I sat in front of the window
and melted through the glass
and through the green bush outside
and over the road and up the tree
that has just enough leaves to feel alive
and beyond the electrical cables
attached to petrified wooden masts
eager to please the people in the houses
I could no longer see in the clouds
I was passing by to slip through the lip of space
to search for the planet you came from.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

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