My Windows

 

Smooth, clear, unmoving
unless I lift you. Luring
light in, shutting cold out,
you are always there for me
to follow the world–children biking,
people walking happy dogs,
postmen carrying packages
to front doors. When I turn
to face my backyard, there
you are again, showing me
miracles–buds opening,
hummingbirds darting,
whirling in air, trees loosening
leaves in November’s wind,
and rain sliding down
your lovely panes like
a waterfall. You are
my glass book.

Written for:  http://poeticblooomings.com/make a inanimate object alive

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