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I Am a Window Poem

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I Am A Window
                                            by David Michael Jackson


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 sienna 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
quietly.




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