Windows

This window is green.
This window is aquamarine.
This window is locked 
With splinters that grow like beams.
Tiny beams that put a stop to things. 
A perpendicular placement 
Of the right order. 
An accurate arrangement of 
A beautiful space, which separates
Like excellent doors.
This window is a day's crossing 
On top of glass. This window 
Is too narrow to see. 
This window is wide and free
Like a wild lake of liquid emerald. 
A brilliant looking glass 
Guarded with dark wrought wooden pane, 
Guarded from thorns of pale verdure—
This window is a summer storm removed.
This window is a summer's dream, 
And only now 
Just know what to see: 
An indifferent frame, 
An unopened hope, this window is
An envelope enclosed
Before the next opening; and 
This window just in time 
For a different weather, 
The next morning.

Dale Chou
2012-09-19