The wind owes me* an apology.
Stop trying to blow through me!
The hail, it tries to crack me up.
Think I'm a some sorta chump?
Hey light, think you can go through me
without paying some sort of penalty?
The dirt just wants to cling.
It's such a filthy thing.
Where's that rag that wipes me clean?
Inattention makes me mean.
Loud noises, think you leave me rattled?
Pecking birds ... Skedaddle!
The rain just makes be blue.
The wind—oh, did I mention you?
* Sometimes I can be a pane.
placed in Poets United Think Tank #65: What do you think of when you imagine a window?
you are an original - really cool style - really cool poem - nice one PT
ReplyDeleteI feel your angst and anger. Completely different take on the prompt from most others. Love the originality.
ReplyDeletePhilip,
ReplyDeleteLife is such a PANE!!!!
Eileen
Thanks for the comments!
ReplyDeleteEileen, sometimes I too feel the window's pane.:)