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.



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