A VIEW FROM MY WINDOW BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A VIEW FROM MY WINDOW

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

Voices pass my window

And traffic goes on its way

Same view same sounds each day

What is their story

Where are they going?

Splashing boots in rain

Silent pattering when it’s snowing

Are they in pain

Or excited for their journey?

What are they wearing?

What colours are in fashion

Same sounds same view

If only they knew

How lucky they are

To be able to get in a car

And drive to their destination

Go on a vocation

Without any thought

Participate in a sport

Or activity with their neighbours and friends

Rather than be put into a group of so called people like you

We have to pretend

We are comfortable with our view

Or people will avoid us

As no one likes a fuss

Nothing to spoil their perfect life

Keep in the background out of sight

Oh look, screeching breaks and dreadful sounds

Look to the ground

Has someone been knocked over?

Shall I run out to assist?

Only to learn almost a crash but instead the bumpers kissed

Face all flushed

Why did I rush?

On still days when rain and winds aren’t heard

I have to go out to see what I need to wear

Because the view from my window

Well, there is nothing there

 

© Fiona Cummings