Out My Window
kaleidoscopic - it mutates hour to hour,
week to week, season to season
and day to night, when it is still and black
except for a pensive visage
whose glazed gaze peers back,
almost begging the question, "what"?!
I have no answers, only smudged thoughts;
leaves green and then fall, flowers bloom then wilt,
lives mix and meld - marry and mourn
midst a carousel of brown trucks
and their hurried drivers
- sirens and gawking and caring tears
through a lens of what we're made of
and will return to - quenched sand
this unshuttered sash reveals nothing
and everything
especially when it is still and black
and fragile
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