The Wind and Window Flower

daffodil-sky

In response to Robert Frost’s same title, which begins …

LOVERS, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

He’s now a breeze that bares no breath
To her behind these panes,
So now it’s like her dance with death
Each time he entertains.
The bird that sings above her head
He too, she can not see
And so she’s left to dream instead
For life that used to be.
She well remembers way back when
She’d rise to greet the morning dew
Or feel the touch, time and again,
Of raindrops passing through!
The wind, of course, her way to dance
Whenever he’d come round,
Sometimes she’d catch his passing glance
Sometimes his sighs profound.
There were the days his warm embrace
Would help her stand up tall
Until they moved her to that place
That stunted life, for all.
She wondered if she’d ever know
The love of nature’s hand
Now that she missed what used to flow
Before this no-man’s-land
She’s just a lonely daffodil
Who knows, like encaged bird,
That life beyond the windowsill
Is life that’s seen not heard!
He’s now a breeze that bares no breath
To her behind these panes,
So now it’s like her dance with death
Each time he entertains.

 

© Joy A. Burki-Watson, 2015

Public Domain Photo

Some People
On Receipt of a Punch Bowl