the window

the window to
was swollen
shut all morning
until you carried in
an armload of May’s
wildest lilacs


  1. marlowe44

    A terrific addition to your poetics, Y. /the wndow to/Saturday/ gives us a lot of ponder, how in life we have windows of opportunity, of joy, of regret, and one needs to fling one up and breathe deep the spring if at all possible; and moreover there is the dimensional shifts that are surrounding us, all making windows to the past, to the future; and the notion that it /was swollen/shut all morning/until the /wild lilacs/ appeared is just right mix of real and surreal, reminding us that flowers, that color, in the drabness and stuffiness of our homes and hearts is a pick-me-up, a tonic, a stimulant. Nice balance; wonderful poem.

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