Window Haiku by Trish Ankrom

Ceri Shaw
02/17/19 01:39:08AM
568 posts

My bedroom windows

leak in pale, morning light

from behind dark drapes,


renewing the day,

awakening tired eyes,

stirring the body.


Bare kitchen windows

display weather and seasons

above sink, through steam.


A refreshing breeze

trembles fat spiders in webs

like lacy curtains.


Or a winterscape

(past tall, dining room windows)

shocks me with whiteness


through gauzy curtains,

large snowflakes swirling as in

a snow globe shaken.


Or a spring green scene

around a doe and her fawn

glimpsed from hall windows


with the growing dawn,

feeding on the dewy grass

in the fading fog.


Or dry red, orange,

and yellow leaves crunch beneath

hooves, paws, and footfalls--


the brittle rustle

heard from an open window

(soon shut for the year).


Lastly, the Moon Room,

so called for the lunar light

flooding all its space


through naked windows

with a celestial glow--

gateways to the skies.

updated by @ceri-shaw: 11/24/19 06:16:51PM