This is the window of the room where I look out at the world,
through the trees, past the small scatter of homes to the lake,
and above it, a sky that wears weather like hats —
something for every occasion.

There is nothing frightening in this view.
The setting sun, a waning flame on the horizon
backed by a smoky scrim, is a theatrical performance
I watch from the safety of my home.

While somewhere else, someone I will likely never know
is watching the same sun rising as they begin their day
of sheltering in, astonished by a sunrise
that performs for their pleasure alone.