Clean windows, plain, glass, open, close, bright,
Light, shaded, paned, shuttered, blinded, boarded,
Rusty, dirty, smoky windows.
Broken, shattered, run down windows
Windows that protect and hide,
a mirror to the world outside
and sometimes to the world within
unraveling layer by layer, revealing,
A tool for introspection and scrutiny,
A glance into a soul, full of secrets and smokescreens,
Evasion, denial, half-truths
Windows, they tell it all.
PS: The photograph is a view of the shops on Ponte Vecchio (old bridge) across the Arno River, in Florence, Italy.
PPS: Like the poem? If so do check out my poetry and short story collection ‘Under the Shade of the Banyan Tree’