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.