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Passions in Prose

golden windows

JenniferMaxwell

Member Elite

since 2006-09-14

Posts 2423

0 posted 2010-03-17 07:43 AM

It happens every morning as the sun begins to rise, windows on the tenements take on a golden glow, reflecting back a light that never reaches inside. In that world of one way mirrors, poverty’s the glaze, the gold is on the outside. Reflections are distorted, the glass is streaked by history, empty hands pass on the hopelessness, spill cups of dreams and aspirations, fracture fragile panes until they hold the cold of winter through seasons of a lifetime.

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

1 posted 2010-03-17 10:41 AM

That same gold spreads to cover trees branches yearning for spring.

A

fractal007
Senior Member

since 2000-06-01

Posts 1958

2 posted 2010-04-04 12:57 PM

I can't get enough of your stuff, Jennifer. Your opening sentence was a runon, but other than that the prose-haiku was strong as usual. Your mournful angsty tone here was nicely done also.

Thanks again for sharing.

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