Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Window














I waited for joy to come
like rain clearing,
but the rain didn’t —
I found myself tensed against
its cold drops, and against
the tasks at hand
(or lack of other ones)

I noticed there was nothing
I could summon to pine for,
no conditions that I felt 
occasioned or could remedy
the gray occlusion of my countenance

Later I remembered
how anyone can be a bright window —
Anyone can show a tiny hope,
just enough to engage the recognition
that brings me back,
that fills me up with light.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 9, 2016

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