Windows

Penned in this double glaze
Mind has to manage
With one sense alone.
I see that blackbird's throat
Vibrate, but cannot catch the song.
The lilac burns its torches, fair
But scentless, and the rain
Is only picture rain.
Trees thrash madly.
A man leans into the wind
And buttons close his coat.
Why should I care?
I see that woman weep
But cannot taste her woe,
And death itself is shrunk,
Into a monster in a fairy tale.

Bring me a stone
That I may let light in
And my mind out!