Butcher Paper

I keep dreaming my graduation.
I am a window with no sky.

I am part of a room.
A child in the room jingles keys.

The child then jangles a chain.
It is too dark for the child to unlock itself.

The child asks me, the window,
to cease being opaque

and let the sunlight filter through
the dirt and water stained glass.

The disenfranchised sun
taps me on the frame

to remind me my faded paint
peels and flakes to the ground below.

It suggests I open my eyes
and attend to my appearance.

A silence follows.
I realize I have no hands.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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