Her Time

Through the close, middle
Branches, streetlamps blink off.
Rising, she descends
To white coffee, one lump,
Under a blanket on her porch.
Thinks, "Rocking here,
Rogue that he be, this jay's
Squabbling, MOST musical,
Beyond the redbird's saccharine
Song; and, these azaleas,
The DEEPEST of purples dyed."
As in a kaleidoscope
The colors of the sky shift,
Blue, violet, blue. She feels,
"The world has been, until
This moment, out of focus..."