Out of Window
By Reese Walker
Posted on March 1, 2023
Cover Image Title: Waiting for the Changing Seasons
Cover Image by: Aleena Choudhry
Once there was a girl, looking out the window,
she mapped out the constellations with her head on the pillow.
She watched the seasons change from her room,
while the leaves blew and the flowers bloomed.
The girl spent her mornings staring at the sun.
Clouds danced in the sky’s circus, until the day was done.
The school bell sounded, a boy asked her to a movie,
she loathed Hollywood’s big screens and instead suggested sushi.
They danced through the many nights, and the moon was their spotlight.
The grandfather-clock’s hand made its turns, with time everything was right.
He told her the three words everyone wants to hear,
but she couldn’t repeat them, so she submitted to fear.
She ran once midnight struck, there was no glass slipper for him to follow.
The woods welcomed her, the tree trunks mirrored her heart, twisted and hollow.
As she held the steering wheel, the trees fell behind her one by one;
she sang to the beat of the radio, has a new chapter begun?
The breeze flipped the pages, she’s always lived in between the lines,
until the story ends. Her heartbeat forgot the rhythm of the rhymes.
Wind crept in as she snuck out, through the window, onto the roof.
With a bottle in hand, she raised a toast to the moon, who sat aloof.
She became drunk on the twilight rain, tasting the raindrops
and her own thoughts, like a child with cherry lollipops.
The window was her anchor, no matter the length she travelled,
the tides carried her away; she was a pirate, with her sails unravelled.
As years passed, her skin folded like dirty laundry,
she could no longer stand up to life’s every quandary.
She rested her bones by the window instead of the fire,
beside it she was Orpheus, plucking at his lyre.
Once there was a girl, looking out the window.
Now she lies in her grave, with a coffin for a pillow.
The girl in the poem lives a life that revolves around 'the window.' She grows up looking out and turns old looking later, physically and mentally. This poem analyzes how people's perspectives change with time and age, where she admired the world's beauty but also became it.
[ * The End * ]
[Writing Editor: J.Y.]