They look..

Through the long ,

Second story window

They watch happily.

The sun is up

And the children going

To school can be seen

Down below,

In the street.

Some walk together.

Some walk alone.

Carrying their bags,

And books and toys.

Only one will stop

Every morning, to look up.

He sees through the glass,

He waves his hand.

They wave back,

Though no one notices.

In any case, it is long before

Opening hours.

They do not know his name

But those of them

That have been there long

Know much about him:

He has a pet dog,

He enjoys flying kites.

And of course, he is

keen on the classics.

He came inside a few times,

Bought nothing, but

He knows them all by now,

Though he speaks no French.

Yes, he knows them all

Up at the art gallery.

Sometimes his grandfather

Walks with him to school.

The boy’s waving

At the colorful friends,

Seems odd to him.

But this is just because

He knows nothing at all

about art.