Windows And Mirrors Poem by Sandra Osborne

Just the one house
is where I stay.
Blind to benefits
from your view.

You gaze
through windows
I try to keep clean.

I suppose
some must seem as
bright, clean stately visions
of my world,

While others seem cloudy,
leaving guesses and giggles.
Frozen foggy panes.

I imagine,
the most troubling ones,
are from mirrors,
protecting inner rooms.

Of course,
these images
are from your house.
The only ones,
you can be sure.

Clean them, if you can.