the window

i see you lean
on the sill
outside your window
as i walk up
the street in my
new shoes, a bundle
of fresh cut
flowers in hand,
a bottle of pinot
noir in the other.
you are wearing
white, and your long
hair is in the
breeze, the sun
is on your face.
i'm not the only
one who sees you,
and wishes to be
with you, and
feel the touch
of your lips,
but at least for
now, for this
moment, the window
is open just for me.