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