By AmyAnne Murray
When you face a window that emits light,
from a miracle sun
that the blinds cannot turn away
you can see silhouettes of humans,
the lines around their hair and fingertips
shaped as strong as a tree.
I realized I couldn’t tell if this was
family or strangers.
Either way I stay,
because there is art in the way
their voices skip around
with all that light,
and they pick up their glasses to