Grandma’s Windows

Moonlight never shined
across her bed of dark pecan
through the small minded windows
of America.

No view of stars or sunny sky
no ever changing blue or gray;
A glass pane cordoning
the outside from the in;

Windows that move up and down
refusing to open;
painted shut, held rigid
by decades of enamel and decay

facing inward
on a tenement courtyard;
untouched by moonlight
no framed scene of tree or sea.

When young she never noticed
the long Winter night
while filling the oil lamp
or by a candle’s light

for the moon shined bright
through the tall windows of Naples;
windows that opened outward – outward
to the city and the world.

Along the path of dreams she comes back to you
yet the sum of her trysts
is less than one morning’s vision of you
through a tall open window.




About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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1 Response to Grandma’s Windows

  1. beetleypete says:

    Very evocative Frank. I could see her at that window.
    Best wishes, Pete.


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