plate glass closes tightly, thickly frosted
screened with lacework, curtained, floor to sky
scenes we’ve known diminished, still reducing
shrinking into rooms, to let them lie
the scenery is panelled, framed and stillborn, stale the air
through windows draped in layers and layered again
wedged tightly shut, a febrile, formed protection
muted from all colour, from all pain
the bigger picture’s framed by heavy woodwork
wrought iron, trellises, most intricate
but it calls across the lands, traverses oceans
recognize again, perceive my work
the faintest breeze, a stirring spiral, reaches
downwards, into rooms, through chimneys climbed
a twitching, eager nose and then one finger
responsive to the urge to know again
repossession reaches, that one finger
then two, then three, then four, then many more
the barricades, torn down, from every window
a tempting glimpse of what may be in store
the sliding doors grow wider, wider, wider
a gush and rush of air that surges, calls
come and look, have sight once more, remember
as once you were before entrapment by these walls
the bigger picture holds aloft a mirror
questions what is seen and what is not
validates existence by reflection
refuses to believe all she is taught
the bigger picture’s green and blue horizons
clarified, the seascapes, mountains, open fields
panoramas, visions, prospect, vistas
to veritas, the cloistered view must yield
