The window sill

I wrote this about my sister

Sitting on the window sill you can see the sky

I sit there watching my sister below the branches of the tree 

Writing a story no one may ever see 

She sits there writing in the sun 

Writing and writing refusing to leave

Her work may be hidden for others 

I have read many myself in this sill

This sill is our home

To our stories and poems

It holds our imagination 

Our hearts and lives as well

In this window sill I sit here and watch 

As I am startled out of my thoughts 

By a noisy knock