Na/GloPoWriMo #29: From This Side of the Window
by Michael Doyle

There was a time as a younger man
When life excited me as it no longer can
That I would climb up into that building
A hotel in which bargains were no longer yielding

The deals that could change a lifetime
But it still held words that fell into rhyme
Every now and then, from this side of the window
As I played guitar watching all the to and fro

All the passers who passed casually on by
Like they changed directions as if on the fly
Always as if they knew where they were going
As if some cheap trick, they were employing

All of this world is magical to all
That is except for the magician who'd recall
It had to do with stacking the cards the right way
And the distracting words, he would say

It was plain to see, from this side of the window
Where I knew all that books read could know
That is except for the deepest meaning
Of what it was to be see beyond simply seeing

Everyone seeming to know where to go
But not me, from this side of the window
It might have been that I was too busy dreaming
Or, lost up in one too many illusions of scheming

Now I wear an older man's set of cheap clothes
But I am still the boy no one really knows
Maybe because I was too busy watching the show
From here, on the edge of this side of the window

(c) April 29, 2021  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved