While Staring Inappropriately Into Windows

I look down and see
hands, arms, shoes.
Goopy eyes
trap renegade lashes.
I count time
by throbbing metronomes
in base of skull and
crook of neck.

A woman sits
in her window
and caresses a lamp
with her hair.
Front door light
frames crooked coat
and springtime Santa.

The lint on my collar
tickles the stars.
Renegade lash makes a run for it.