peer into the forest from the fence line watching the birds

fly free through the woods into the sky above and to the floor below and you a stationary figure on the fringe of wild life you ponder within your own mind the flights and lives of others without having your own yet.. your nose in a book and your feet on a chair .. your lips on the drink of something cold the wind blows the light curtains into your room over you as you lay on the floor once again your nose in a book turning the pages eagerly for the next scene wanting more even when the book was over .. stacks of books in your closet .. your clothes all hanging in order by length and color.. your floors all moped and your rug brushed and your bedcovers undisturbed because you sleep in a sleeping bag that you roll up every morning and stash in a shelf on the closet.. in retrospect you probably should have washed it more or at least let it air out in the sun but you were a kid and didn't know that's all

now you sit in a recliner with your shirt off under a blanket with your nose in your phone and your thumb dancing a mile a minute over the keypad .. automatic muscle memory you don't even know what it's doing but your elbow aches for days now you salvaged your neighbors trash because you aim to use it to protect yourself from the coming frosts and your own brother is blocked from messaging you cause you both have an attitude..