motor cars, half seen, from an ever changing
canvas of colors and hues of reflected light;
Outside my window are other buildings with
other windows and other people who wonder
why my window view is so special to me;
Outside my window are the endless roads of
my imagination and the undrawn cartoons of
nameless artists whose still-life’s of life only
serve to distract a nervous point-of-view;
Outside my window I see myself from time-to-time
and my image wonders back at me and why we
look alike and will I affect his point-of-view?
November 1977
Very nice psychological poem, Alex. I like how you see yourself outside your window and how your image wonders back at you.
ReplyDeleteI see you added a link to my blog from your blog in your blog list. You linked to my story about the dog doing his own shopping at http://rewardandconsent.blogspot.com. Thank you very much. I have added a link to your blog from my blog. It is down on the left under the section of "Reciprocal Links."