Amie’s Window

With eyes partially closed and a surrendering smile

as if she were awaiting love’s first innocent caress,

Amie sits by her favorite window in anticipation

of the shear splendor of God’s awakening dawn

and the warm engulfing embrace of morning’s first light.

Amie’s eyes open wider and her smile becomes broader

as the rhapsody of life playing on outside her window

grows more intense with each passing moment.

The birds sing their welcoming tribute to daybreak

in concert with the melodic sound of rustling leaves

as a warm breeze gently whispers through them.

 

With one tiny frail hand braced against the sill

Amie leans slightly forward in her little wheel chair

as a dainty finger with candy apple red nail polish

from her other small hand cautiously pushes aside

the life sustaining tether she has grown weary of

just to allow the consuming aromas of spring

permeate  every tiny recess of her pale nose.

Overtaken by the heavy floral fragrances of

Jasmine and Gardenia clinging to the damp air,

Amie falls back in her chair with eyes closed

and a faint, but rapturous grin on her face.

 

The sound of people chatting and laughing

as they hustle along the sidewalk below

in concert with the distant rumbling noise

of cars whizzing up and down the highway

suddenly fills Amie’s awaiting little ears

and her big brown almond shaped eyes

pop open to investigate what is going on

below her window this beautiful morning.

She stares longingly at a group of children

impatiently waiting for their school bus

wishing she could one day be standing

on the corner waiting like other kids.

 

Amie hears a familiar voice behind her say:

“Okay kiddo it is time for your last treatment.”

As the nurse turns Amie’s chair toward the door,

Amie sadly glances back at her little window

wondering if she will ever look through it again.

Several hours later a gentle wisp of breeze catches

the end of one of the maroon curtains hanging

alongside Amie’s little window to the world

making the curtain curl and appear to wave

as if it were trying to beckon someone closer.

From a small hospital bed  across the room

the weakened voice of a small child calls out:

“I will definitely see you tomorrow  Mr. Window.”

 

Published by

kinnycut

I have been writing quite a number of years. I have been published numerous times and I have won several writing awards throughout the years. I won one for poetry just last year from a state contest through my college, the College of Central Florida. I graduated Magna Cum Laude from that same college in 2015 with a degree in Mass Communications. I now have a BA in Psychology from Saint Leo University.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s