Five Floors Down

Five Floors Down I can see the Road.
There are cars. Dogs. Gas Cylinders. A dead Crow.
An Auto just went by. Packed with School kids and their
homework.

I look to my side.
I see the Terrace of my neighbor.
I see lots of pigeons.
Roosting pigeons. Cooing pigeons. Mating pigeons.
Loner pigeons. Grey. White. Black.

Looking up now.
I see a blue sky. Dazzlingly blue for a early winter morning.
Blue the kind i would use a special filter on Photoshop to create.
Make me think of flying and flapping my wings. 

And of soaring to see people i haven't seen or spoken to in a long long time.

But would they be happy to see me?

Don't want my mind to go there now. Can't afford to waste time.

I look back.
I see the wall. A white wall with pigeon droppings.
The other side of this wall is my living room.
It has my TV. My gods. My paintings. My sofa. My Books.
So i guess i do live there.

I look to my right.
There's a staircase that goes down. down and out on the road.
From the road i look up and see myself standing on the terrace wall.
And i call out to myself.
Yes You can fly.
Just spread your hands.
Now do you feel the feathers fluttering in the wind.
Wiggle your toes.
Wiggle your fingers.
Now look up.
Look at the sky.
All so blue and inviting.

See that eagle up there.
Gliding so lazily.

Let's Fly.

Now Jump.