Through the glass I can see
greens and reds, and sunlight spent.
Colors mixed so playfully,
surely nature must this have meant.
To see the world as canvas painted,
beyond the polished surface clear.
Not by imitation tainted,
but beauty born by basic sphere.
Mother Nature displays before me,
vixenish, and without shame.
Joyous fauna and splendorous tree,
divided by my window pain.
Then this allure is all but halted
in the shimmering light of day.
By houses and roadways salted
with pavements reeking manmade gray.
It saddens me to behold
resplendence contrasted thus.
Nature’s freshness, now grown old
like shiny metal caught by rust.
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Submission Name: Through My Window
