I sat at the window watching the kids across the street do cartwheels in their yard.
They shrieked and galloped and flitted about the green green green grass
Enjoying all the seconds of this first summer-feeling day.
And I sat at the window
drinking ginger ale for my hangover.
And in the distance I heard the bagpipes.
The old old old lady who lives next door died yesterday so they must be her bagpipes.
They filled the air with something that I had never felt before on this familiar block with its dead end, mowed lawns, and oak trees.
I feel nothing about the old old old lady but guilt for feeling nothing.
A boy I went to high school with died yesterday. He was knocked out in a fight and went into a coma.
He was 22.
I hope he had bagpipes.