The FAB&PP Poem of the Month for January 1996


SILLS

like my father

like the yellow
man frustration
leads me to the
window

I draw the curtain
look outside
and try to deal
with things I cannot
know or help
I seek the backyard
landscape, the neighbor’s
drive, the same
streets, the angled
views I know

to wash the rage
but not with reason
     
emptiness

an unanguished alternative
to the interior
world
the banal exterior
insulated view

no noise
no voice just
the frame, the birds
hopping, the animal
footprints in the
snow
(no shoes)
or other telltales
of life

still
life
at the sill

March 21, 1993
revised December 25, 1995


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