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She sits by the window
upon an old wooden chair
keenly listening to the squeals and laughter of play
she wishes bravely and watches
that she too could go out and join in on the rain
rain of happy childhood and carefree days
join in on the laughter and the chase
of running after fluttering butterflies
or a runaway cricket ball on the street
she could scream high and mighty
taking a dive down a slippery slide
or watch ice cream melt down her hand
as they raced around
she wished she could
just be a child and go out
if only sunshine was her friend
and so, like a ghost she lingered indoors
haunting windows and doors
and spied the happy world outside
wishing and hoping
for a one day chance.
She thus sat by the window and watched
her childhood played out by neighborhood kids,
and occasionally she’d catch them glancing
at the very window she would be covering,
and they’d shiver involuntarily
at the sight of curtain ruffling
by the empty windowsill.