In front of my desk
unclean
glass window
one day last year
very small and fragile
flower
stem
leaves visible

While writing a poem

And then autumn came
And then winter came
And when winter came
All erased and forgotten

Spring has come
Spring's March march has passed
Spring's April has come
Now May

I was writing a poem
and the words didn't come to me
so I tried to meet them
and I looked at the ***** window
and it was broken and through the blinds
I could see
stems and leaves and
flowerless trees that I hadn't seen before

They sway in the wind
and greet me
with hot teardrops
with stained palms
and send me
the words of the fragmented world

I am busy writing them down.