This window is nourishment, filling the eyes
with strong drink, and acidly piercing
This window is furniture re-hung like a picture,
recording new outlooks when the old pleases
This window is doorway to feelings, good
feelings and bad, all of which enter
free of discourtesy.
This window is sanctuary for victims afflicted
with borrowed ideas, delivered of barren words
which will not ignite.
This window is respite from dreary duties
and ill-judged discourse about nothing
This window eases the thankless grind
of writing for unimaginative scene stealers who
are deaf and regrettably blind.
This window is a palette
and mirror to life.
© I.D. Carswell