The view from my window
Reminds me of what I cannot do.
It’s of the courtyard I’m too tired to nap upon
Because my bed is closer and more familiar –
Its muscular arms hold me and rock me to sleep,
As I cry out the memories of days I used to
Be able to run around at a moment’s notice.
The window in front of me is wide open,
Yet shut to tomorrow’s possibilities.
I must re-evaluate the view from my window.