My window speaks….
as the gentle wind plays ruse with the blinds; tickling them to entice their drumming,
It speaks of glorious mournings.
It tells the story of navy-armored knights.
Bejeweled in splattered droplets, it protects me from the clouds’ sorrows,
their untold tales sail by me like wispy, elusive strangers.
I listen to the stories of my window.
As it translucently sighs; whispers its secrets a mile high.
Glass tethers the pieces of life to reflect in my mind’s eye…
the goings-on of the world.
Self-portrait, March 9, 2011
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