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Through the Window
by Mary Ellen Smith
against the curtains of his thought
in cottoned
reveries
behind the woven dreams of youth
and childhood tendencies,
he finds the sunlight on the sill
a breeze still begs to play
in silhouetted images
yet formed by sunshine's ray.
he sits alone and most content
though no one can explain,
his life in years seem measured by
this gazing through the pane.
although the branches scrape the glass
still begging to be heard,
its leaves no longer refuge
just ever more so blurred.
oh, he remembers climbing high
to see what he could see.
so many dreams were carried there
atop his growing tree.
now his tree, so much like him
is crooked and peeling bark,
and there he sits just watching it
from morning till the dark.
but in a storm he crouches near
pressed against the window cool
though in the thunder of the night
he shivers in his wool.
there is kept a silent vigil,
old hand and tapping branch.
together touching through the glass
for one more youthful chance.
04/09/1999
Posted on 04/12/2005
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/12/05 at 03:46 PM ...ohhh maryellen, aren't we s'posed to "find" our own meaning?...m'lady this is so eloquent...i can "see" him, my father-in-law, an an elder(than me)gentleman at our coffee klatch, et al. ...lovely, lovely, ...peace, chaz |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/15/05 at 04:44 PM This is really beautiful, but also carries sadness, maybe because I see my own youth slipped away between its lines. Well done ma lady. :o) |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 04/16/05 at 12:59 AM Poignant, tenderly sympathetic view of aging (a person especially fragle and perhaps feeble as well). |
| Posted by JD Clay on 04/16/05 at 02:41 AM It's amazing what one can truly see with an open window to the future through the eyes of opportunity. Good stuff, ME.
pe4ce... |
| Posted by Melissa Arel on 04/16/05 at 02:10 PM tender and beautiful |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 04/16/05 at 06:03 PM I wondered if you meant reveries, rather than revelries? I only noticed because I was locked into this from the first brilliant line (didn't notice the rhyming scheme until the second read - a good thing) - light touches of animism, and familiar but well executed extended metaphor - the whole thing paints a moving picture. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 04/17/05 at 05:43 AM Excellent Mar and yet sad....Charlie |
| Posted by Bruce W Niedt on 04/19/05 at 03:17 PM Mary Ellen, this is excellent - maybe the best poem I've read by you, in fact - it works on every level: imagery, emotion (very poignant but not overly sentimental), form, etc. A really successful example of verse.... d:-) |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 04/20/05 at 05:33 PM This identification is so natural and so full of emotions. |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 04/23/05 at 01:32 PM Such a sad yet beautiful tale Mary Ellen. Congrats on POTD with this excellent work! |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 04/23/05 at 10:25 PM Congratulations on poem of the day Mar...Charlie |
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