A Glowing Window

A doorway

The old buildings- narrow- tall- tower up above the pavements and gravelled walks, a quiet family that gathers around my apartment. Old buildings full of memory. This part of my neighborhood is perfectly quiet, the rest of the city nestled away in another universe. I’ve grown to know these buildings well, old friends that welcomed me centuries ago when I landed here, barely alive.

More recently then it was noticable, (after getting to know this place in a more intimate fashion ) a glowing white window glistening in complete silence across the pebble paths. No human shadow, or shimmered movement; empty as a stolen night. The glow too bright to be ignored, mystic ancient glass a curved and gentle arch.

Some nights the window is dark and I forget

But then evening will fall, (still too early- cutting short the day in the cold and blistering February gray) and the light will return, piercing, a doorway of light.

It almost seems I could walk through the thick and rippling glass across the air

into the light.