She pointed across the street to the telephone wire. 

“Look at that little blue bird” she said. 

I looked. 

“I don’t see anything out there” I said. 

She grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to the window. 

“Right there. How do you not see it?” She said. 

Her grip on my arm grew tighter as she pointed at the wire again. 

“Right there!” She said. 

“Oh yeah, I see it now” I lied. She sometimes saw things I didn’t. 

She smiled and said, “life is like the little blue wings on that bird.”



A man opens his apartment door

And steps outside.

Before the door closes behind him 

I catch a glimpse 

Of a floor to ceiling bookcase.

His eyes meet mine 

And he asks

What happened. 

The red lights of the ambulance 

Reflect off his glasses 

As I tell him I don’t know.

We stand in silence for a few minutes,

Then he turns to open his door

And shuffles back inside.

To his bookcase

To his home

Without a word. 

I can still see the red lights 


In his glasses