Sir Winter's Chill Poem by Holly Jamestone

She stared out at the boulevard
While crouched upon the sill
Her legs hugged upward near her chin
Her gaze so very still

As traffic pulsed beyond the pane
I couldn't see her face
But somehow I could then relate
In going to that place

A truly spiritual place of peace
Where passing hours stood still
A momentary longing, I
To be her on that sill

I saw myself behind the glass
Between the drapes and pane
Gently feeling sweet reprieve
As tensions start to wane

Where sunshine does the window waltz
And clouds crescendo daily
Ignoring life, just kicking back
Escaping from the melee

What made her then be so engrossed
In peering at our world
The dancing leaves and twisted bows
Vanilla lights unfurled

I wondered was she really there
Or just an apparition
A momentary glitch of sight
Frenetic contradiction

Was she a winter angel?
Had the other drivers seen
This lamb with ivory, curly hair
There crouched beside the screen?

No strands' illumination
Could match her sparkling hue
This little child so tucked away
With gentleness so true

I hope all who passed by that way
Had seen her on the sill
And caught a glimpse of slowing down before
SIR WINTER'S CHILL

(2003)
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