Posted in Verses

From A Windowsill

I wonder if plants bred in captivity

Watch from windowsills

And crave freedom like we do;

I wonder if their spirits yearn

The company of fair birds 

To be tickled by a cheeky squirrel

Sweet nothings with the wind

The stern glare of the sun

And the moon’s lullaby;

I wonder all this

As I watch the world with them

From a windowsill.

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Author:

A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

6 thoughts on “From A Windowsill

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