The window holds what no one dares to claim.
The breath fades fast. The glass resumes its stare.
The faces pass. The silence stays the same.
***
The buses halt; their doors extend like flame.
The strangers step and dodge the open air.
The window holds what no one dares to claim.
***
Two hands now hover. Neither one can name
the weight between, the ache they will not share.
The faces pass. The silence stays the same.
***
A child draws circles, playing at a game.
Her breath blooms soft, then vanishes: despair.
The window holds what no one dares to claim.
***
The folded paper tries to still the frame.
His ring reflects a flash of distant glare.
The faces pass. The silence stays the same.
***
The grinder hums. The clock repeats its frame.
The light turns red, then green—the evening flare.
The window holds what no one dares to claim.
The faces pass. The silence stays the same.
About the Creator
Fatal Serendipity
Fatal Serendipity writes flash, micro, speculative and literary fiction, and poetry. Their work explores memory, impermanence, and the quiet fractures between grief, silence, connection and change. They linger in liminal spaces and moments.
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Let's Don't Do This
"I just can't do this anymore..." "Do what?" What can't you do? Put gas in your own car? I swear to God you make me take care of everything, don't you? You know I'm on my way to work right now but that never stops you from bothering me, does it?"
By Shirley Belk7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Your poem transported me on the street to witness the loneliness, cold and sharp like the glass, and the longing ephemeral like a puff of breath in the cold air Thank you for sharing your talent. great visuals