Windows
Windows
Windows and drapes,
Colours and shapes,
The world outside
Has nowhere to hide.
But ceilings and floors
And tightly shut doors
Witness me still
In the shadows that spill.
Sunrise knocks
On windows and clocks,
Time, old fellow,
To bathe in yellow,
But the boxy and grey
Remnants of my day
Keep my eyes shut tight
In perpetual night.
The sound of laughter
And happy ever after,
Through windows natter
Like birdsong chatter
But in silence I lay
With nothing to say
About the smoking gun
To the pitying sun.
Summers and springs
And beautiful things
Through windows and blinds
As the day unwinds,
But autumns and winters
Like thorny splinters
Pin me to bed
Where I lay dead.
© RJVHorton2016
Copyright © Robert Horton | Year Posted 2016
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