I look out my window
the curtains rest against the back of my hand
The glass cold and clear
then cloudy as I breathe
I let my tired head
slump towards the icy cool pane
and wish
I look into the sky
a glistening sea
And find a brilliant fiery star
floating throught the air
swimming in the breeze
I close my eyes
I wish again
I am a believer
of magic and love
But feel like a fool
for wishing I was holding
you
This poem is about 20 years old. I don't remember who it was inspired by, but I remember the cold window pane on my forehead. I remember the yearning and admitting to myself that I was a corny romantic.
