Window Poem


Reading and music my Chris Carmichael

from Dreams

I am worn weathered wood.
I have seen the storms,
felt the hot sun,
endured the wind until
I am cracked.
My colors have faded into
burnt siennas, from red under
the sun’s rays.
I have seen the owl at night and
the hawk in the day for
I am a window in this wood,
this weathered wood.
I am a window or
I am nothing.
I am a window.
Sneak up.
Take a peek
into my panes.
She will be there, sitting
at the table,
having her tea
or holding her cat


I am a Window  © david michael jackson  2000


david michael jackson  july 10, 2003    send one rose petal,  just one

Posted in art music poetry, David Michael Jackson, Poems with Audio, Poetry Posts, Resident Poets