Through a Venetian Blind

Mom would dust the venetian blinds

every Saturday morning

open and close them

with a pull on the cord

watching the world  blink

appear, disappear and change

reappear the same, but slightly different.


Now cranes appear through open blinds,

unafraid messengers of a sort

spying from their perch, all stilt and neck;

Do they despise us or think we are ugly

thick of leg and round of head

unable to dance?


I have left the city

where people cannot love themselves

to live among the cranes

promenading quietly passed blinded windows

treating me indifferently

reveling in the accomplishments of quiet.



Bonded For Life


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. :-)
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Through a Venetian Blind

  1. Ms. V says:

    A new one! I love venetian blinds for the very reason you describe– you can take the girl out of the ‘ Burg but you can’t take the ‘ Burg out of the girl.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. beetleypete says:

    I had blinds at every window when I lived in London. Wooden venetians, custom-made at considerable expense. A cleaning ritual that I hated, seemingly endless.
    Curtains now. No blinds, ever again.
    I can’t see any cranes though, That must be nice.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.