The Windows

Here is a child who presses his head to the ground
his eyes are open
he sees through one window
the flat gray ocean
upside down
with an arbor of islands hanging from it
all the way to the horizon
and he himself is hanging from nothing
he might step down
and walk on the old sky far down there
out to the clouds
in the far islands
he might step on the clouds where they have worn shiny
he might jump from cloud to cloud
he watches lights flash
on and off along the dark shores
and the lights moving among the overhead islands
he feels his head like a boat on a beach
he hears the waves break around his ears
he stands up and listens
he turns to a room full of his elders
and the lights on
still blue day in the far empty windows
and without moving he flies