The Window
By Jill Jupen
The window in the old
house looked out and saw
everything the window had ever seen.
The day the wind blew down
the poplar the window loved
to watch, the poplar whose leaves
danced like silver coins in the
breeze. The window felt the years
of wind and rain, the wind and rain
of 200 years. Children
playing ball into the summer
dusk, and then the fireflies,
trying to outdo the stars,
and they did. The window
saw the children grow up
and go off to war. He saw
the mothers weeping at
the end of the dirt driveway
as, day after day, the mailbox
held loneliness and sorrow
like a wound. He saw the man
mow the lawn his face slick
with sweat, and the woman
placing boxes of flowers
beneath the window and all
the others like him.
Jill Jupen lives in Vineyard Haven with her husband, five dogs, and lots of books.