A Few Sweet Minutes

There is a rose
climbing the window
behind my laptop. 

I am stooped over
the keyboard, resting
in away mode, way

away from the repetitions
of the toddling upstairs
shouts. I do not need

to yell out my body,
I need to tell outside
my mind. The truth

is a farce. These green
trees outside behind
the rose leaves leave

nothing to be desired
in terms of conversation.
They tell all. I hear what I

can. Each bump from the
wind gives me the jump
that I need to start

my way back up
stairs.