Windows, Panes, and Portals

Windows, Panes, and Portals

Backdrops for occasions,            

Momentous and less-so, 

Life-affirmations and                    

Daily tedia complicated:              

Changing seasons:             

Wet Springs to high springs:                  

Seeds, births to fall leavings,      

Suns, clouds and moons’ phases:                     

Risings, settings, obscuring passings.  

Buds and blossoms.                      

These panes and portals:

New pains and new blessings,   

Befores before afters,                  

Glare-blinding, wind-cracked and clean-streaking,

Glass for reasons.

Out which we’d glance                

At Christmastime,              

Warmed at the hearth,                

Or Easter or just ‘cause,              

Into which we’d peer                   

On each arrival                                           

To see the season’s scents         

Before they were caught

On seasons’ breezes                     

From the kitchen’s heart.           

Out which we’d glance                

At blooming mounds,                   

Flowers planted                             

On our last visits;               

While washing dishes                   

After splendid feasts,                   

Or hand-snapping fresh beans, 

Or licking beaters                          

From cookie and cake,                             

Batters sweetly mixed.    

Out which we’d glance      

While local news               

Or Fins football--               

Or college football—                    

Chattered amongst cheers.        

We’d playfully dote                                  

With Grampa soft-snoring,                     

Full-belly hard-earned,                             

After long-days’ works,                

And a life well-worn.         

Out which he’d glance,                

To watch her tend            

Flower beds, and               

Us climb trees, or pick                 

Blackberries, or build                   

Palm-forts, while he rolled         

Tobacco in papers             

And listened to “The                    

Rest of the Story,”            

While box fans rattled.    

Out which she’d glance,              

To watch him chop                       

Hardwood and build                     

Fences and feeders                       

For her flowers and                      

Critters and robins;                       

Stole away for catnaps,               

Or to fix her hair,               

Or her gloss so she                       

Was always perfect.              

Glass, framed and righted:         

Letting light in and out.               

Muffling playful shouts:              

For spectacles, for dew-to-misting,

For being seen.                  

Perfect for greetings,                   

As if on movie screens.                

Perfect for long good-byes,                    

Sorrowful and longing and final

Soundless endings.

Read more of my poetry, essays, and stories at Momentitiousness.com