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