a man crosses the street, coat flapping dingy behind

then staccato clicking of high heels on the pavement

two doors down across the street through the trees

neon lights are flashing blink blink stop buzz stop

taxi goes by with the sunroof open and the driver is caught rubbing the back of his neck, one hand loose on the wheel, worn almost past caring

evening light slants green-gold through the trees which were planted only a few years ago

and you wonder, from six stories up in a cramped Berlin apartment

why this makes the air around you so much easier to breathe.