By The Window Poem by Micron Jan

He sits alone, the evening still,
A quiet house on top of the hill.
The clock ticks on, the light turns gold.
He hums the song from days of old.

He gazes out with distant eyes,
Searching through the dusky skies.
He smiles and says she's running late.
Then softly murmurs, I can wait

By the window every night.
He watches for her car light,
But she won't come. Though he believes
She's just behind the autumn leaves,

He calls her name into the air,
Not knowing she's no longer there.
Time has taken what he knew,
But not the love, that still shines through.

The hallway creeps, the shadows lean.
He lingers in a half-lost dream.
A rose held gently in his hand
For someone gone, he'll never understand.

Photographs in black and white.
He stares and asks, 'Will she come tonight?
Then nods as if he hears her say 'I'll be home soon.
Love, I'm just delayed.

By the window every night.
He waits beneath the moonlight.
He doesn't know she's gone away
Only that she missed today.

And so he sits with soft refrain
Repeating scenes inside his brain.
Time is faded. What is true? ,
But not the part that clings to you?

In his heart, she's on her way.
Coming home like every day.
Though the world has closed the door,
he's still waiting like before.

By the window, time stands still.
His love untouched by memories still
Though her voice is lost in air,
He sees her smile like she's still there.

And when the stars begin to roam,
He whispers, 'Darling, welcome home.'
Not knowing dreams are all that's left.
But love survives even forgetfulness.

He'll wait again when morning comes
To greet the day with setting suns.
And though she's gone, she lives somehow
In the place that memory lives now.