Windows

When I was little
driving home with my parents
I loved to look in yellow-lit windows,
see people in their kitchens,
lovers kissing,
a child looking back at me,
a cat.

It made me feel like the world
was connected,
We saw
each others’lives.

In Chicago
when I was thirteen
I looked out the window
with my friends
at the homeless lady
who lived in a car in the alley.
I don’t know why
we laughed at her.
We did not understand
the window into that world.

Jimmy Stewart looked out his Rear Window
and identified the murderer.

Curse the thief and peeping Tom
who abuse open windows.
And shame on Bill Gates
for too many versions of Windows.

My husband likes to pull down the
window shades before the sun goes down,

But I like open windows in the evening.
The dimming light on trees,
the twilight fading slowly,
the yellow light in my
neighbors’ windows.

Open windows let in the air
let in the cat, let in the light.
My heart is an open window.