(Dedicated to a window on Kings Park Road, Glasgow.)The window is crying. The tears are disguised by the rain drops. The window is so lonely, invisible and thin. It stares out blankly. It cannot move or call out. It cannot make itself known.
The window is crying. It has no hands to cover its face. It has no face. It is simply a window pane that people look out from or in through, and that can be great company, especially when a warm hand presses against the glass momentarily.
The window is crying - it stares, bare glass, thin, skeletal. The tears roll and fall in time with the rain. The night is dark, the amber light from the street lamps cast out. The traffic is unconcerned. The window is shattered and lonely in the distance.
5 comments:
I like it though I think 'regularity' is cumbersome. There must be a way to say that better, something more poetic.
Also try 'broken' instead of 'shattered' - 'broken' implies someone who has been beaten down; 'shattered' just made me think of knackered.
hey there mcguire
just read a sentimental glasgow flower
thank u is all i can say
jim, do you think i should change my name to the shattered barman??? might be more fitting actually
'Regularity' is rather dull word choice, I'll have a think. I might change shattered but I liked it but only in the context of 'thoroughly upset'. But, I suppose the connotation is there, nonetheless, afterall it is a piece of glass I'm talking about.
Cheers for your cooments.
Asalamu Alaykom,
No matter how much a window in Glasgow wants us to feel its pain/pane, I cannot be too sad. It is, afterall, in Glass-go where the life is more exciting than Edinburgh. It need only open up to the life outside and empty out the musty misery.
Post a Comment