I'm going
To miss these
Windows.
I can see my childhood
From up here.
They frame my happiness-
The memories of.
Outside of them,
Awaits a future I can't see,
A hope I could regain.
I keep you in mind.
The part of my past
Beyond these wooden frames,
A part of me I could never
Waste away.
A part of me I will bring
To the future.
You're the gift-
The memory of-
And my hope
Regained.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I always enjoy poems about transformation, aging, evolution, and the power of thought-in this case thoughts conjured by memory. The window frame is an excellent choice for the use of establishing the transitioning within the theme of this poem. Clever girl, indeed.