Through my window
I do see
A wild expanse of greenery
It’s not as pleasant
As I would have liked
But there are a few marvels indeed:
A skinny old woman
And a street dog that’s not hers
Who stays by her side
While she sleeps
I think she looks sad
Although I cannot see
There are herds that come
With a dark – skinned boy
They feed on grass
While he sits and toils
Inside his mind is a girl
Who’s too pretty for him
And maybe wealthier
He wonders, maybe, of consequences
How a shepherd falls for such a girl
And can still dream of being happier
There’s a sorrowful tree
With its boughs bent
Leaves dry and bark sapless
Through my window
If I look up
A patch of blue looks down at me
The clouds make faces – some do smile
But birds disturb the sight in between
I grab my pen and a page
And I decide to write a happy poem
About the literal highs and lows of the world
The vast sky and the telluric scent of earth
And of the lives it holds.