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The Window

Gray eyes

By David HallowellPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
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Through gray eyes I sit by the window watching the people pass by. I wonder where they go...

I make up stories about their lives, what adventures they must have...

Seafaring sailors returning from the deep

blue sea, heading home to sit with their family, as they warm themselves by a crackling fire...Hot chocolate anyone? I'll have mine with marshmallows please!

Merchants come from abroad with with their full load of goods from the far flung corners of the earth, silks from the orient,

Spices from the east Indies. Japanese fan for you, Italian shoes for me.

A mother taking her children to market...momma can we get some icecream?

Cars and busses bouncing along the busy street as people pass by each other wothout a word.

As night time falls around me and the world outside my wondow turms to gray

I hear the old Felix the cat clock swing his tail as I wast away the hours of another dull day.

-Stands with a Roar!-

as in thunder.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

David Hallowell

Stands with a Roar ( as in thunder) As his native American name suggests; he speaks with thunder, in essence he has a message for all to hear. The messages is set forth in poetic style, like flashes on enlightenment for all to hear.

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