This is a photo taken earlier this summer.
I was going to write a poem about it.
On reflection it is already a poem – visual, evocative, suggestive.
Weathered paint, cracked pointing, crumbling stone,
sashes, lintel and frame worn away with the wind.
A window of opportunities taken? Perhaps not, now lost.
No mere hole in the wall, an apperture of light,
illuming the human,the homely, the holy.
In 200 years, what has been seen looking through this window? Who lived and left here? Whose stories unfolded, now forgotten? This weather worn window once welcomed someone home.
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