The view from the window is grand
I can see past the garden
Past the stone walkway
Past the white picket fence
But I can't move
In a way, this windowbox
My home
Is a prison
It seems I will never be
A part of that outer world
I was planted here
In this box
Nothing more than a seed
They hoped I would thrive
And in fact
The box was the perfect place for me
They nurtured me
Gave me water and sun
I did grow
And now I blossom
But they don't see
I have grown too big for this box
My roots are cramped
If they're not careful, I'll wilt
And I see the outside
I could be planted there
Where my roots could conquer the soil
And I could flourish
As they always wanted me to
Must I lose my petals
Before you finally see?
11-29-95
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