Where I stand
Peering out from translucent panes
I see the tree, leaves turned golden at this time of year
Beyond the tree I see a house, their garden sharing our back fence
I’ve never known her name, the lady who lives there. Denting the grass with her bare feet early in the morning, hunched, not to be noticed.
And I see more houses next to hers, some with loft conversions and some with fancy glass conservatories
But further than that, I see nothing
So I wonder about life within four walls
Stains on the carpets and forgotten mugs hosting mould under the bed
Moth eaten silks and cheaply bought treasures held dear behind cupboard doors
Tidy sinks and bleach drenched bathtubs
Life thriving, shielded from judgements
Life dying, shielded from acknowledgment
Then I stop wondering and I’m called back to the tree. She is never timid
Sharing herself each day, no need to whisper secrets under the duvet
She stands naked with no apology
And I can see, never needing to apologise for noticing her beauty
