Poetry in a season

If I would spend more time outside
the Spring would be complete.
I have two windows in a city of high rise apartments,
and they yellow my rooms with light in the morning.
Inviting me to come out
and walk the paved and red-bricked Arlington.
I could stroll to Starbucks or just go walkabout,
enjoying the chirping Spring birds and their brightly greened perches,
the curly wrought-iron benches.
Without purpose or agenda,
leaving the wallet at home,
I must learn to walk the city
as I do the Virginia Beach.