a view from a
window
a garden
blanketed somewhat desolate
there’s a bench
rimmed in snow
its back struts
darkly visible a rack of ribs
old bones aching
with the cold
piano keys
unplayed a noteless wordless stave
and opposite a
buried flower bed
with frozen
knuckles of black stems
clawing the air
and beyond by
the high wall a colonnade
of deciduous
trees arterial diagrammatic and exact
supporting a
blank sky silence
trying to
picture the summer
that would
eventually paint this scene
to feel its heat
to see the trees leafed
the sky released
the flowers bloomed
those painted
fists the clamour of colour
to get the sense
of time moved on
of the world turning
again
the heart
unclenched
a figure figures
sitting on the bench
music
