80. Story of a Girl


I’ve often heard about a girl,

From a distant land.

In meager old town she lived,

In house aged and grand;

Which year by year did stand.

The girl from the highest window,

From the place she dwelt,

Day by day sat staring;

Beside the window knelt,

To see the world she felt.

From the window two floors up,

As dawn drew near,

She saw the town yawn and rise,

To greet the days’ premiere.

Ah, the days she did revere.

As the sun scaled the sky,

More peoples appeared.

Following their bearings,

However brilliant or weird;

Hour by hour they steered.

Laughter of various children,

Loudly could be heard,

Playing in a joyful fancy,

With which there is no word;

“Just happy truth”, sings bird.

All pass her house hurriedly,

None to see her form,

Quickly living out their days,

Through sun, wind, and storm,

To societies’ conform.

No notice made of a void,

An emptiness to fill,

With pair of reclusive eyes,

High on a window sill.

A soul, silent and still.

A girl watching intensely,

When the dusk befalls,

Doors closing for the night,

As the moons’-light calls

The silence enthralls.

Dark descends.  Stars glow.

Girl ponders the day.

Many people made it through,

Another spectacular day,

With not one glance her way.

Yet, every morn, at first light,

She wakes before all,

To see the sun shine again,

Upon this town so small.

Abandoned.  Not part of it.

Only sights to recall,

Of a life which she’s unfit,

Left in solemn withdrawal.

K. Aldaya, 9/29/04

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://s1.favim.com/orig/22/girl-sad-window-Favim.com-212680.jpg


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