Yesterday's Window
I look through the window of yesterday
watch the rain fall upon the world
to see dead leaves floating away
carried by currents they can't control
when they fell from limbs now barren
that have a Winter's shadow
to wipe the fog from its glass
trying to see tomorrow
lifting eyes, to see the last puff of smoke
from the last candle lit
that lingered, leaving a charred wick
in an empty room, where nothing is heard
but the sound from each tear finding the floor
circling the legs of my chair
as I stare into the thin fog painted glass
for my reflection
held like a ghost in the backdrop of gray sky
that covers my window in sadness
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