The Open Window

sitting by an open window

words written in raindrops

and poetry whispered in the wind

outside, a river of books

of quixotic quests

crumbling castles

loves lost and friendships found

the exotic 

and exceedingly ordinary

Once Upon a Time and The End

sitting by an open window

wishing I were a raindrop

yearning to be the wind

*from the files of very bad poetry by bia