The Woman In The Window

 Can you see the woman in the window?

      She basks in the glow of the moment,

       donning a princess pink gown

       with a train of angel white.

       Nervous tears of joy

       stream down her vibrant face

       streaking her blushing cheeks

       a pallad hue of shadow blue.

Can you see the woman in the window?

     She bathes in the light of renewed hope

     dressed in a large billowing top

     with teddy bears adorning the front.

     The sudden thrust of an innocent kick

     forces her to clutch her swollen belly

     and a tender smile fades to a wince

     as motherhood pains begin to quicken.

Can you see the woman in the window?

     She soaks in the brutality of the moment

      clothed in a torn cotton gown

      with crimson streaks down the front.

      Like a doll thrown to the floor,

      she lay broken against the window

      her head twisted slightly askew

      with finger bruises around her neck.

      Her battered terror ravaged face

      pressed against a cracked window pain,

      like some macabre masterpiece.

      Two crystal blue eyes frozen in fear

      now free from the hands of oppression

      surrender a horrible unspoken truth.

      Huddled next to the cold lifeless body,

      a tiny teary-eyed little girl

      clutches a frail banded hand

      and loudly whimpers the words:

      Mommy! Please wake up!

      Have you seen a woman in the window?

      Will she be there tomorrow…?