Windows Distant S.R. Knowles With the rain that fills up the glass Leaves a kaleidoscope of color A mosaic of reality distant Within my slumber solitude, I wonder why On the inside days seem brighter I think of higher arches vivid A patchwork of saints and stories haloed Admired by generations of shuffling feet Yet the clarity fills me with the realization That the windows feel like eyes staring back at me
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