I unlatch it with both hands,
the old frame tottering,
as if it, too, has waited for this moment.

The air rushes in—
wild, unburdened,
cool against my face,
tangling itself in my hair
like something alive.

Outside, the trees bow and rise,
their leaves trembling,
as if whispering—
Yes, yes, this is the way.

And I, standing here,
barefoot and quiet,
feel something shift inside me,
something long held loosening,
lifting like dust in the sunlight.

I do not close the window.
Not now.
Not ever.

 

 

 

 

Photo credits: Interior of a bedroom with lots of plants vintage style, Pexels. 

Dora is our lovely hostess at dVerse where she invites us to reimagine the familiar. Come join us 💛

Posted for Poetics: Reimagining the Familiar @dVerse Poets Pub