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August nineteenth
Four thirty-eight
And twelve seconds
Seventy-two point seven
Degrees Fahrenheit
Humidity
Seventy-one percent
Wind
Three point eight miles an hour
The curtain moves once
Then again
Not enough to touch the lamp
Just enough to change its shape
A glass left near the window
Holds a little of the street
No cars
Then one
Then none
Four forty-one
Seventy-two point five
Degrees Fahrenheit
The air conditioner stops
For the first time
I can hear the building
Water somewhere in the wall
A loose sign
Two streets away
Something small
Crossing the roof
Three point eight miles an hour
Enough for the curtain
Not enough for the trees
Three point eight miles an hour
The room changes
By almost nothing
Four forty-seven
And thirty-six seconds
Humidity
Seventy-two percent
The window has started
Giving back its reflection
My face is harder to see
The buildings behind it
Are becoming easier
Funny
How the numbers keep changing
Before anything feels different
Seventy-two point three
Seventy-two point two
A little more grey
Along the eastern glass
No announcement
No first light
Just less night
Four fifty-three
Wind
Two point nine miles an hour
The curtain barely moves now
A bird lands
On the opposite rail
Pressure steady
The weather app says
Nothing unusual
Nothing unusual
A delivery truck
Turns at the intersection
Nothing unusual
One apartment window
Goes dark
Nothing unusual
Another one
Comes on
Maybe ordinary things
Only look ordinary later
Five oh-two
And eight seconds
Seventy-two point one
Degrees Fahrenheit
Humidity
Seventy-three percent
Wind
Two point four miles an hour
The curtain is still
The glass is almost clear
Someone opens a window
Across the street
I can’t hear what they say
A train moves somewhere
Behind the buildings
Not loud enough
To count the cars
Five oh-six
Seventy-two degrees
Fahrenheit
The screen goes dark
The room doesn’t
