Window in Florida

Window

I was sad this morning remembering my parents and their decency–their respective losses. I sat beside the telephone waiting for a call in my overheated room. I put my face against the sun flecked window. I cried. In the damp house of my spirit with my seeing-eye dog looking on I felt like I was nothing more than a shadow on a silver knife. I opened my eyes to the glass which was white and flowing and charged with sun. My tongue, my debtor, my companion, had private words then.

 

 

S.K.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s