The Window
Over a labyrinth of dust
carved by cockroaches scampering away
at the faintest sign of company,
waning light is unevenly cast
by an old crackled glass window.
Limp and age-stained curtains
tint green the yellowish rays
where they haven’t been eaten through
by moths which flutter unwittingly
along an old crackled glass window.
The sullen mood satisfies the bees
which hum, as they go to-and-fro,
some sulking tune void of melody
which reverberates nicely
off an old crackled glass window.
There is no living recollection
not even among spiders
peering wistfully about
who have long-adorned in cobweb
that old crackled glass window.
Yet recorded in detail
black and white on the wall
hanging skewed from a nail
is an old family portrait
taken under a clear glass window.
07/18/15
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
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