REDEYE

I have a lot of postcards to mail, but I can’t find a post office.

There wasn’t much to say, anyway. It’s warm, it’s beautiful, it’s refreshing; I miss you.

From my apartment you can see shoes on a telephone line. From there, a palm tree, and beyond that, lights. At night it’s only lights. Even the sky. You look up, but every time you think you see a star it’s just a plane.

I wonder if they see the city in reverse as they leave: lights, palm tree, shoes. When I find out, I’ll let you know.