Escape Route


141204-072630

It is the window
that lets the breeze in
carrying dust, sometimes a light
volley of rain

It is the window
that lets out the gilings of despair
scurrying around
settling as a thin film over reason
if not shaken out

There are no seasons beyond this window
no months and no perfect rhyme to it
No clocks to dictate when the blinds
must be drawn
No love seat at the sill where two might sit

This window which words push open
when the film threatens to become a blanket
through which truant trees, birds and echoes of life
come to visit
is inbuilt into the ‘carriage’

Flat, frame-less, ‘frugal’ ones
letting in sunlight for so long now
that the bright patch on the cracked tiles
has become a precious mural
©Reena Prasad

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