The residents of the top floors call down
in the morning to the front desk to see
what the weather is like on the street

because they are above it all. Their
heads aren’t in the clouds; they are
above the clouds and so when they look

up they see clear blue skies and down
they see billowy down, almost soft enough
to jump into and bounce back to their

rooms, like standing on the edge of Pike’s
Peak on a cloudy day and looking down into
the soft, billowy down and seeing that

the top of the clouds are only a few feet
below the edge. He remembers standing too
close to the edge when an officious voice

said calmly, “Please step back, sir.” The
residents of the top floors always take
the elevators down. The concierge will

be waiting with a complimentary umbrella
and the news that some down-on-his-luck
guy just jumped. The residents of the top

floors shrug, step out the automatic doors,
stand under the canopy, open their compli-
mentary umbrellas while the cabbies signal

eagerly that they are at the service of
the residents of the top floors and ready
to shake, fold and close their umbrellas.