She was attracted to windows, of all things. She had framed photos and paintings of windows hung in her office. I don't know what her attraction to windows was. But it was there. As her mind shut down, light by brilliant light dimmed by disease, I wonder if she saw a window and remembered her love of them.
This poem can't honestly be said to be inspired by her. Not even by the her I knew when I knew her. It's not really me, either.
I guess it just is.
Streaked by time and tears
choked out in bitter fits and starts.
No entry to soul here.
Thank you, One Single Impression.
10 comments:
This spoke to me - It made me remember folks I used to work with: the 6'3" transvestite, the Swedish girl who spoke better English I did, the cat lover.
Thanks for a moving post. I really enjoyed it. (I found you on the One Single Impression website.. I wrote an entry too!)
This makes me feel the isolation of being penned in by dirty windows, or sorrow....
Probably not appropriate, but this reminded me of Renee, the woman I worked with when I was 18, who drove us all nuts, we kind of made fun of her behind her back, though she was nice enough in her own way. Injured or something and out on medical leave for months. Coming back after leave, fell asleep behind the wheel and died. She must have been 20. What a shock.
I appreciate the way you describe the trail of thoughts that lead to the poem. There is an open feeling to the journey.
the room itself is stark and lonely. I think we all have wandered into a room such as this at one time or another. a soul needs air.
sometimes the mind has a mind of its own.
heartbreaking and lovely
So many windows are closed...a strong poem, nicely framed.
This poem and your story made me think that it is too sad that we can`t try to help a person clean their windows when we see sad stains of life on them.
This is a very thought provoking piece.
That was beautiful, darlin'.
I know this woman. I took care of her also. She had Alzhiemer's. So sad but so true. Being trapped in your own body, being trapped by your mind. What a fate for the soul to endure.
Patois, this seems to bring memories left and right.
I think we all have a 'Linda' in our background.
We might ourselves be a 'Linda' to our friends. Especially when we are gone-gone.
..
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