Who positions windows this high?
So high a step stool begs to be climbed.
Rectangular, a six inch height
Horizontally, two feet long.
A limited viewing for all
Less than seven feet tall.
Sky, sunlight, clouds, rain,
Branches of oak, splatters of bugs,
Smears and spots blurry with age.
Telephone poles, electrical lines,
Moonlight, early dawn, and frost
Adorn the high brow view,
As twilight sneaks guiltily through
Two windows on high.
Lying in bed, the third
Window so low,
Floating above earth
A mere foot or so.
If you flattened enough,
Add a twist of your neck
'Til it cracks, then relax
You can gaze out with ease,
Upon miner's grass,
Mean sticky weeds,
Entangled barbed wire
Choking discarded pipes
Corrupted with rust.
Patiently a'waiting the
Mending of the fence..
Fast approaching decline
Of an empire fumbling
Then crumbling quick
Like bricks upon the land.
Sand ripping, stripping,
Sneaky and grainy
Brings torment to
Eyes hankering to see.
Room of three windows
Has no cares, nor concerns,
Complaints or desires,
Not a thing to discern.
The space in the room
Is all that it needs,
For views mean nothing
With no eyes to see.
Laurie B. Ballard
March 6, 2024