What you see when you open the window

By Itane Vero

Sat, 16 Dec 2017
  • 1067 reads
1 comments
 

He notices the light. It's a sparing flame

shivering above a wax candle. It does not

 

bother him how the rays ricochets against

his brittle eyes. What matters, he lives in

 

a circle. In which are visible. The lonely

cracks in the wall, the hollow eyes of the

 

hand puppet. This sitting room is for him

the universe that is expanding bit by bit.

 

During the day he kisses the stone floor.

At the evening he drinks frosty rainwater.

 

At night, he sleeps in natural moonlight.

Everything would be fine. If not the big

 

black side. He does not dare looking at it.

Only when the dusk crawls into his skin,

 

Shyly he is imagining the windowpane.

Muttering his dreams, muffling her name.

 

 

Certificate 12
Poem
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

Enigmatic, gives the mood of a hermit. 'the big black side' sits at the heart of the poem, when I hear the poem in my head this is where the central emphasis falls.