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| Mag 145 - Prompt provided by Tess Kincaid |
The View
As squats went
it was just another
drafty and leaky
abandoned building.
On the second floor
facing the east
he could watch the birds
from the red chair.
Listen to their song
through the broken windows
as they greeted the dawn
in the tree tops.
For those few moments
he was home
not just living
from dawn to dawn.
J. Binford-Bell
November 2012
A great delight. Thanks for.
ReplyDeleteLove the direction you went with your poem ... I can see him in the abandoned house sitting on that red chair. Great poem.....
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorites so far. I love the description and the simplicity. it's a sweet sadness and not overwrought. Nice work.
ReplyDeleteA blessed respite. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThe view from here is lovely! :-)
ReplyDeleteI really like where you went with this.....thanks for sharing
ReplyDeleteGreat combination of picture and poem. An opening to a whole story...
ReplyDeleteAnd a squat it does resemble - but nice to know there can be pleasant thought inside it!
ReplyDeleteOh lovely write!
ReplyDeleteThere's almost always something lovely in even the worst of [;aces. The man's squat was his palace giving him such a view of nature.
ReplyDelete(I made it here at last!)