A WOOD-FRAMED WINDOW

"And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come. . . "
--William Wordsworth

A wood-framed window
Framed my world
As a small child.
On a rainy day
I saw a visored truck
From thirty years before,
And remembered them all.
I saw an old woman,
Wearing a coat too heavy
For San Diego, with a
Scarf tied over her head,
And I remembered
Many such.
"The child is father
Of the man," they say.
To understand me now,
You must understand that boy
Who peered out that window,
That wood-framed window,
On a rainy day,
And knew no death.

8/15/15