The Window

Sometimes windows through space are windows through time...

I saw a glimpse

                           of a girl

                                             through a window,

one that I used to know.

She was fresh and had flowers strung up in her hair.

 

I stood still, so so still, even though I knew well that she

couldn’t see through, not if I jumped up and down,

which I wanted to do.

 

She stared out. I bent closer, to study

the fine yellow streaks in the black of her hair.

 

I lowered my eyes,

reached through the sill,

grasped for the petals and fibers and dew.

It's what any man from my vantage would do.

I pressed shut my eyelids and caressed the soft petals,

so very familiar. So much so, I'd swear...

 

I leapt from her shadow, the darkness of hair,

for heaven be damned, I remembered this day!

I'd just forgotten this window!

I stared through it once, and oh, the same fool-

the girl I once knew was the girl I did know, and

the window I found,

in forbidden Spring

was but artifact, echo of

irrelevant things.

Reviews

[Woody]

I love the flow of the poem. wonderful choice of words.
sensual and funny at times (jump up and down made me smile).
good work indeed, Thad.

[Thaddius]

thanks! glad you could see the soft humor. The admissions and rationalizations are perhaps my favorite ingredients in this one.

[just Penny]

You asked me to review this poem so I took a look. Windows are great for reminiscing and to provide a restricted view or snapshot of a moment in time. It speaks of loss of a dear one, written with depth and emotion. I like the lines:
"the window I found,
in forbidden Spring
was but artifact, echo of
irrelevant things"
These lines left me wondering how something written with such tenderness could ever be "irrelevant". An "artifact" is usually something of historical interest. So I interpret these lines to mean that it's over and done, the window should be boarded up and the memory archived for posterity. Sad really that if something meant so much, that it doesn't take pride of place somehow. Windows can also be a portal of excitement and ready to jump through. I liked your poem. My interpretation could be way off base, but as with all poetry, the reader takes what they will from it. Penny

[Thaddius]

oh your take is very good. glad you picked up on the loss and tenderness. irrelevant is perhaps a word someone uses who cares deeply, and wants to dismiss it

[S]

Its a beautiful poem. You are a fine poet. :)

[Thaddius]

aw thanks, I really appreciate your words

[Guanarito]

Very well done. Just mysterious enough to leave me hanging but not feeling vague. A perfect balance. You did a great job. The word usage was solid and no complaints on the occasional rhyme. Even the format of the poem lends itself to the subject matter. Quite a good love poem, very heartfelt. Definitely glad you threw me a message because this one was worth the read. Great work and good luck on your future writing.

[Thaddius]

thank you, I'm glad you liked it. I kind of had to keep it mysterious...

[Guanarito]

I agree. If you made it obvious it would lose meaning. It is perfect the way it is.

[Frontier]

I lowered my eyes,
reached through the sill,
grasped for the petals and fibers and dew.
It's what any man from my vantage would do. I really liked this stanza!
And the ending was great since the reader ends up feeling foolish too, thinking it was going to end in some sensual/erotic event, interesting turn.

[Thaddius]

thanks, I appreciate your take