There are no more windows in this house
I had planted shade trees and carved doors
And glass panoramics to filter wind and cold
But the doors are unhinged
And are pushed aside by the smallest visitor
And after yet another chickadee burst itself
Against the big bay glass,
I’ve freed every pane from its frame
And let in the elements,
Wild and unedited.
There are nests and puddles on the sills now
And the breeze is unbound.
And in the company of bugs and vagrants,
I can never be alone.
So when the hurricane comes,
There will be nothing to shatter.
I’ve let go of all the windows in my house.
I had no idea I could be so safe,
So comfortable
And so free
When nothing separates us from the world,
When I can let it all inside me.
