Poet’s Corner


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.