… I opened my weary eyes!
I untied the album’s ties.
In sleep’s dark cage-
Pictures of past laid in each page.
Forgotten images, discolored faces,
Indifferent eyes, sad places.
Dusty pictures of ones who now dead;
Smileless lips, old stories of dread…
… Each page seemed like a wall,
A wall so alone, so sad, and sometimes tall!
Each picture, old or new-
Was a window in my view…
… Those eyes, so silent and proud;
Those faces, bewildered among crowd,
Were flying out of window;
Carrying their stories to the rainbow…
… In one window my eyes met-
My mother’s eyes in sunset.
I wiped the dust from her young face;
Begged her not to leave that place!
She sighed, then smiled at my grief.
The answer came to me as a relief;
Which window would I fall from like a leaf!! …