Another Window
Standing at my kitchen window,
silver maples dot my neighbors lawn.
I imagine in a different space and time,
peering through another pane of glass —
in a nursing home seeing birds eat a worm,
or a jail cell watching lives roll by on a train.
Life moves fast; things change
by the click of the clock.
Fire.
Flood.
Death.
Soon, I’ll be looking out one more
window; see my reflection and wonder,
"Who is that strange fellow looking back at me?"
Wrinkles, double chin, gray hair... it scares me to think
about looking out another window,
especially if mine is the only reflection that I see...
Copyright © Ron Cervero | Year Posted 2007
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