as i wait for the light to change,
the late Winter sunlight
just hits the top floor of the six story building
across the street, on Broadway,
where i live.
as i enter my apartment
(strictly speaking, the apartment where i rent my room)
i must be careful not to trip over
my room mate’s collection of stuff,
between the front door
and the space where i eat, sleep, make music and art,
have my harpsichord,
and watch videos on my Macbook.
my friend Bob once said the journey through my apartment
(3 rooms, kitchen and bath)
was like traveling through a dark cave
until you opened my door
where there is so much light (on a sunny day)
that you have to wait for your eyes to adjust.