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Below are poems written by poet Kim Morrison. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

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Amie's Window

    With eyes partially closed and a surrendering smile 
    as if she were awaiting love's first innocent caress, 
    Amie sits by her favorite window in anticipation
    of the shear splendor of God's awakening dawn
    and the warm engulfing embrace of morning's first light.  
    Amie's eyes open wider and her smile becomes broader 
    as the rhapsody of life playing on outside her window
    grows more intense with each passing moment.
    The birds sing their welcoming tribute to daybreak
    in concert with the melodic sound of rustling leaves
    as a warm breeze gently whispers through them.
 
    With one tiny frail hand braced against the sill
    Amie leans slightly forward in her little wheel chair   
    as a dainty finger with candy apple red nail polish
    from her other small hand cautiously pushes aside
    the life sustaining tether she has grown weary of
    just to allow the consuming aromas of spring
    permeate  every tiny recess of her pale nose.
    Overtaken by the heavy floral fragrances of
    Jasmine and Gardenia clinging to the damp air,
    Amie falls back in her chair with eyes closed
    and a faint, but rapturous grin on her face.  

    The sound of people chatting and laughing
    as they hustle along the sidewalk below 
    in concert with the distant rumbling noise 
    of cars whizzing up and down the highway
    suddenly fills Amie's awaiting little ears 
    and her big brown almond shaped eyes
    pop open to investigate what is going on
    below her window this beautiful morning.
    She stares longingly at a group of children 
    impatiently waiting for their school bus
    wishing she could one day be standing 
    on the corner waiting like other kids. 

    Amie hears a familiar voice behind her say:
   "Okay kiddo it is time for your last treatment." 
    As the nurse turns Amie's chair toward the door,
    Amie sadly glances back at her little window
    wondering if she will ever look through it again.
    Several hours later a gentle wisp of breeze catches
    the end of one of the maroon curtains hanging
    alongside Amie's little window to the world
    making the curtain curl and appear to wave
    as if it were trying to beckon someone closer.
    From a small hospital bed  across the room 
    the weakened voice of a small child calls out:
    "I will definitely see you tomorrow  Mr. Window." 

Copyright © Kim Morrison | Year Posted 2016

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