Looking Out from 302

I saw the new curtains from the curb today,

heavy blue fabric blocking the light.

I used to stand there, trying to pray

to the ghosts of the city at night.

The streetlights used to jump and flare

whenever the wind kicked the power lines.

I’d stare through the glass into the cold air

at the blinking of the liquor store signs.

There’s probably still a dead fly in the track,

caught between the screen and the frame.

I never had the guts to move it back

or remember the reason I came.