my dream 

is to 

live

in an

apartment

in a 

big city 

where

people 

runrunrun

about their lives 

never 

looking up 

to my 

tiny dream 

in the sky. 

it would 

be in an 

old brick 

building

with

rickety metal

fire escapes

creeping  

up the sides

of the building. 

and inside

my dream 

i would 

have plants

draped 

over everything. 

vines 

climbing curtains

and spilling

over bookshelves,

diving 

out windows

and curling up

the fire escape. 

i would 

have window boxes

with sunflowers

hanging outside 

every 

window

in

my

dream. 

and i 

would have

a piano. 

a baby grand,

with sheet music

strewn all over

and plants 

wrapping 

around its legs,

and books 

stacked all 

around it. 

and i 

would sit 

in my dream

every morning

with sunlight 

behind me

and windows 

open 

and play 

my piano.

clair de lune

and gymnopedie 

and nuvole bianche

and all of 

chopin’s preludes

and canon in d 

and moonlight sonata.

and music 

would float 

out my 

window

and down 

my street.

and maybe 

someone would

stop in their 

runrunrun

and listen 

for a moment

to the sound

of joy

coming from 

open windows

in a brick 

apartment 

with sunflowers 

in window boxes

and vines

growing up 

rickety metal 

fire escapes

and books 

lined up 

on windowsills

because all the 

bookshelves 

ran out of room. 

and maybe

someone 

would realize

that's all they 

ever wanted 

to do–

live and play music

surrounded

by plants and books. 

and maybe 

they would grow up

and do just that

and pass on 

the dream.