She looks out her comfortable window,
warm and protected, life-fattened,
gazes at sunshine and rainbows,
defended, accumulating years,
dusty, and fading...

She sees past the pane of her window,
it's cold and troubled, life-flattened,
views worlds ravaged lows,
defeated, shortening years,
rusty, and shrinking...

She touches the pain in her window,
sharply jagged, fracture-patterned,
feels glass-shard winds blow,
unloosed, crippling years,
gusty, and vanishing...

Erin Moen
2/16/03
Copyright 2003 ©

Companion piece:

The Darker I Go...

The longer I think,
the darker I go...

(Nonchalant message
of voided persona
empties
into my heart,
uncreating me.)

The darker I go,
the longer I die...

Erin Moen
2/16/03
Copyright 2003 ©