Warmth on my face
Yellow hues surround me
Streaming through a seeming window
Crisply framed in gleaming white.
Reaching to grasp and hold tight
The golden gift
Grateful for the mere touch
A fleeting glimpse
And she is gone …
And I awake to the cold once again.
1 thought on “The Angel’s Window”
I like it. Are you talking about morning sun through a bedroom window, falling momentarily on your face as you sleep, then sliding off your skin and the bedcovers onto the wooden floorboards? Or something more profound? I’m not a clever man. 🙂