| A Changing Window |
| Used to, when I looked out of this window, I would be expectant. Expectant of you. Someone to talk to. Up in my room for hours, chatting about nothing & everything. We laughed & we cried. Sometimes we said nothing at all. But it was nice just knowing you were there. My window is empty now. It was yesterday too. And when I look out this window, it is not for you. I am no longer expectant. Mine is a changing window. No longer bringing hope or anticipation or excitement. Rather an empty feeling. A reminder of my loneliness. Oil spots your car covered, I can see now. The grass has grown back from where we laid watching the stars. The sidewalk no longer wears our names in chalk. Mine is a changing window. The view is clearer now. Clear of friendship, laughter & comfort. Clear of you. Felicia Diane Larson |