Another piece of writing, but this time by a homeless poet. Its words could be those uttered by any one of us, to anyone from whom we’ve wanted approval…and love.
That Damn Window
by Jason Schafer
I’m just curious, how is that damn window doing for you? Did it finish cutting down
them trees yet? Did it finish them sprinklers? Or what about them gutters–has it done
anything with them? How about the yard work? Yeah, probably too busy filling that
hole in the sun room. Too bad that damn window can’t fill the one in your heart. I still
wonder if that damn window randomly gives you a kiss while you sit in your chair knit-
ting your blanket. Does that damn window ever say “I love you?” Has it cooked you
breakfast yet? Or simply said good morning after a night’s sleep? I’m sure that damn
window appreciates you giving it a place to be. It just seems like you would rather have
that damn window than an only son like me that loves you. Maybe I’m not transparent enough–like that damn window. I wish next time you sit next to that damn window,
and stare out its cloudy view, you might just see me smiling, and read my lips that say,
I still love you.