The room is filled with light,
a clarity of morning.
Fresh radiance tumbling through a window,
the taste of blue skies.
Outside there are seagulls,
messengers from lost oceans,
they write their elegance across the breeze.

In the square the market sellers are stirring,
their silks flutter with early abandon.
A man in a cap turns and waves at me,
like we knew each other once
a very long time ago.

He is a shadow cut from memory,
his face obscured.
I am a young woman framed in a window,
nothing more, nothing less.
Before the rush of crowds,
before the onslaught of the day,
I am lightness itself.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...