A clock tower stands far from my reach.
Its brown, burnished body high above level
and I sit behind thick glass, my eyes far and below.
How will I reach you?
You stand in front and in between clouds and
you, strong, stand tall like anything under.
You stand in front and in between grey and filtered blue and
you, strong, stand tall like burnt brown caramel.
You are high above level.
Never put a wanderer by a window
Wilting at the winds that push
Against windows and she dies to be among the buildings
Sky beyond buildings beyond clouds beyond this window
Beyond where she is
“Please let me leave!” she says, “these windows wear on my self!”
On she cries for metal built squared see-through barriers to be
Broken, open, tilted open.
Open up, air inside
On the other side
Of the blue, white, skies, beyond
Beyond complacent seated struggle to learn another lesson
Beyond reflections of natural light which crawl into her lap and
Warm her thighs, she thinks, closer to the window and she'll rest her eyes
To draw her windows to the aluminum resistance
And she shutters to imagine breathing on the other side
— The End —