Tapping at my Window

Posted: October 27, 2014 in Uncategorized

Richard M. Ankers - Author



I heard the seasons fighting over my window pane last night.
Each felt that sheet of clearest glass to be theirs,
But it is not theirs; it is mine.
First came the spring in a spray of evening rain.
Carefree and joyful it cast itself upon my non-dreams.
Next was the summer in a blast of drying heat that banished its sibling,
Then drifted away on a scirocco wind.
Autumn chilled the glass to get my attention even casting leaves against it,
But soon got bored and left to sleep under russet covers.
That left winter to crackle across the glass with frosted fingers.
I watched from the warmth of my room as it strove to chill me.
It did not succeed, but I appreciated the effort.
I did not know which of the four I should wake to,
But realised the beauty of each and that either would be…

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