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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2241920
A lament to my bedroom windows.
As a child, I was surrounded by grand windows.
I was young and naive and I
did not understand
what a fortune that was.
Now I am 3 months and 3 days from
21. I am still a child,
but I miss my light.

In my dorm room, I get western light.
The sunset graces me with her
presence. Not only her,
but the glory of eastern
Sunrise
reflected off the windows of
the building across the courtyard.
Which is slightly taller.

I miss the sunlight through
my window: The Beams
that shine through, or
reflect off, to renew me.
I cannot help but adore
them desperately.

I miss the sunlight as I
sit in my bedroom at my mom’s house…
… north facing windows.
My highschool art teacher always said that
southern light was the best for still lifes.
She rises in the east,
She sets in the west.
There is No Glory in northern light.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2241920-Northern-light