1:47 A.M. - Thursday, Mar. 23, 2006
Child at the window
Some where a girl watches out a window, too young to understand how life unfolds, her blank stare keeps her eyes from blinking. This girl child lives in her mind, no promise of a life beyond the stained window. Too old for tears she thinks, no one would understand anyway. No one would care, she feels this.

She reaches for her hand as the other glides through it as if she wasn't there. Still she sits by the clouded window waiting.

A car pulls up and a women steps out forgetting to shut off the engine. She looks up at the window of her past; the glass is broken and covered with age. She is home, home to the ghosts of the past, home to confront the little girl within her that she left behind.

She was told to become whole again she must find this child, reconnect and come to terms with phantoms of the past.

The child at the window moves away and finds comfort, a teddy bear from long ago. Clutching ragged cuddly toy close to her heart; placing her thumb in her mouth she walks from this world to the next. She steals a blank gaze back just one more time, seeing nothing but knowing all. {

{I wrote and posted this June of last year and couldn't get it off my mind last night at work. I decided to post it again and look deeper into what I was trying to say. It feels like something right on the tip of your tongue but not being able to explain or dislodge it. I'll try digging up bones and see what I can find.}}

Sandyz

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