The Window - Poem by Gert Strydom
The summer-sun burns blinding
on the window, mirror image on my eye
where trees, the rocky garden and plants
change gripping to an arched sky
above a domed sea
with reflection of light,
with fencing poles that are crossing rearranged
to a float drifting in equilibrium.
I am for days in the doldrums
and nights long, how long I cannot say
while I wait on the gusts of wind
that have to carry me away and I am full of apathy
until the wind, the sea thunder foaming throws me
in into eternity, far past damnation and the hell.
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