Window by Sam Luna
She stares out the window each day
Before the sun sets away
Drinking tea and wondering
What could other people be doing?
There was nothing to see
Just buildings
And hanging clothing
On other people's housing
The wind blows
Her eyes blur
She sips tea
Her mind leaves
The images of yesterday come
The emotions of today emerge
In her mind she hums
And with the wind she surges
No one could really understand why
This girl would want to fly
All her thoughts are recurring
But only the window knows what she's thinking
Since starting to do Wild Writing at the beginning of September, I have been reading a lot of poetry. I have always struggled with poetry; pretty words but where's the story. Then I realized the words are the story.
Poetry makes me think about photography, moments I would like to capture. I will never be a poet, poetry requires a level of feeling I am not sure I will ever obtain. But poetry helps me to identify that fluttery feeling inside me when I raise the camera and press the shutter.
This was taken at Greenfield Village when my husband and I were there for a date weekend in mid-October.
