Window To Old Times
when i was younger
i sat by my window
dreaming of sights yonder
shaded by a cooling shadow
of an oak planted long ago
i saw the children play
that sweet boy from the hillside
play ball with friends from below
on a bicycle that beauty their teacher
rides on her way to school
and i saw the old folks gossip
about minute matters
they all brought a smile
and sweet memories to last
times does change so fast
in a moment it shatters
now every morning i open my eyes
the window to my old soul
then i open my cracked window
by that shady oak tree
i linger there wondering
where did the children go
where is their teacher now
does the city treat them kindly
i dearly wish so
this is my entry for Poets United Thursday Think Tank 65: Windows. the first time i’m doing so.
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