glimpsed squarely for a second passing by.
A lamp burning orange under its tawdry shade
turns red to gold as day fades.
The room around rests in darkness,
the light of home never enough
to glimmer far.
Passing, unaware of anyone
in that bronzed, lamped,
its empty seat
and ready light
Imagining only myself as if I am them,
waiting for footsteps to fade
before I draw the blinds
and turn towards