The birds are awake
...written on 2001-06-17, @ 5:01 a.m.
Tales of Kim's Life in Japan
Sun June 17, 2001
Uh oh. Two nights in a row I've stayed up until the birds started singing. It is 4 am and I can hear them now. It feels like it just got dark.
I've been writing and I've been reading. I've been shifting in my seat because this cushion feels like a ROCKPORT SNEAKER for butts!
A train just came in.
My left eyeball is sore.
The birds aren't singing now.
I get up and go to the window to see where they have gone. The sky is a dark mood ring blue. I look across the street and can see the reflection of my squat rice paper lamp in the 3rd floor window of the vacant apartment across the street, and there I see myself, peering into the space between the buildings. Looking to the left I can see a light on in another apartment, two floors higher, in the building catty corner to mine. The sound of a motorcyclist, intent on disturbing the REM sleep of many as he revs his 550cc engine in the predawn hour, makes my ears wince.
My gaze goes back to the 5th floor apartment. I have seen the light on before. I wonder who lives there. I even hope for a glimpse of a silhouette to begin to tell the story of a life.
The birds are back.
The dark mood ring blue clouds have broken and I can see the light tangerine cheshire cat smile of a moon with an indigo whisker of cloud .
I hear a roar. The birds. No roar. The birds. The click of a machine. The birds. Footsteps. A car. The birds.
4:30 a.m. and I am looking at a cornflower blue sky with periwinkle clouds rolling like tumbleweeds off the face of heaven.
The cars are starting to roll. The trains rolling in. The water for my hot chocolate begins to boil.
A thin whitehaired cat crosses the street below.
More birds sing.
5 a.m. I pull out my futon to sleep.