Opened the window yesterday,
from off the bay, a breeze,
cool beneath the sun’s blaze,
blew in and brought me
laughter from next door,
overhead, geese honking,
from the street, tinkling music
of an ice cream truck;
then images, like dreams,
drifted through the window to me,
the last a steep hill,
long grass blowing,
the far side of the hill a cliff
that dropped off to the sea,
beyond, the pinks of sunset fading;
on the cliff’s edge,
facing north, a house;
I live there, sometimes at peace
and sometimes lonely,
sometimes lifted
by exhilarating winds
that sing to me.
A Life in Poems 
Once again, Willow, you demonstrate the ability to take what most overlook and make it into something meaningful (as it rightly is) and special. This, too, is homage to both memory and imagination. I always love how you see.
john
Your comments are so perceptive and supportive, John–I really appreciate it.
I love the vivid images in your poems. I love this line: “…then images, like dreams,
drifted through the window to me…” And the last line, “…sometimes at peace and sometimes lonely, sometimes lifted by exhilarating winds that sing to me.” Just beautiful.
Lorien, thank you so much for visiting my blog and being so supportive and kind with your comments.
How do you manage to create such clear images with your words? The last stanza, particularly, got to me.
Thanks, Kate–well, I try 🙂