A Room with a View

A Room with a View
by Christabel Germain

Four walls,
Constant and conctrictive hold me here,
Darkness concealing their number.
Ceiling crumbles
With the touch of my fingers,
It falls dry and dusty.
Brushing past my skin
Dampness
The floor beneath me,
Wet and soggy,
Saturated with unspeakable horrors.
My pillow,
Sharply angled granite.

There’s a door I know,
I just can’t find it.

A crack of light,
Breaks into my prison,
Biting into my skin.

A corner of a building,
A screen for which shadows to play.

The branches of a tree,
Budding with spring.
Green with summer.
Empty with fall.
White with winter.

Through this crack,
My world.

Night falls…
Darkness

Four walls,
I think.
Ceiling crumbles
With the touch of my fingers.
Dampness
The floor beneath me
One brightly colored leaf,
Escaped form that world into mine.