Western Window by Lynn Otto

Western Window
by Lynn Otto

Through the western window
of our Iowa apartment,
I follow the sun back home.

It would take a night in the dark,
a morning chased,
a noon overtaken,
an afternoon of falling behind,
but if I drove really fast,

I could see the sun set over Puget Sound.
I could eat my mother’s soup,
play checkers with my dad,
put my sister’s hair up.

I could sleep all night
tucked into my twin-size bed
and wake to muffins in the morning.

 

 

Window Thoughts by J.S. MacLean

Manipulated Photograph

 

 

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