Window

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Sit and ponder as you look out the reflective glass.

Submitted: July 21, 2018

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Submitted: July 21, 2018

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Looking out, There is a faint reflection. It appears to be me, am I really home? Looking in, It appears to be so, A vision of comfort in a big box filled with rooms. This glass that separates my tiny world From the land of never ending skies. In my chair, I dream of out there. Seasons change my surroundings. Lands of green and tall trees, Fallen leaves coloured, Then covered By blankets of snow for days. A stem that sprouts - flowers bloom. An ever changing sky that remains the same. Ever clear, or clearly clouded. Stars only seen at night When our own star is out of sight. All that can be seen from this frame. Window.


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