Balcony

It's too hot to linger there for most of the day. But in the hours that frame the day, as the sun starts her slow but sure climb onto the main-stage, and then again when the performance is over, and, all sung-out, she slips quickly and quietly back-stage, that's when I step outside and watch, listen, read and whisper small, broken words of response.

Tonight: Ecclesiastes. Ears drink in audio, while eyes follow text, breathing ink.