What a window feels like.

I look out the window
as the day retires.
I watch the red sun glow
and the moon extinguishing the sky's fires.
I look at the blazing beauty.

I look at the mountains.
They hide the next world.
I see the cars speeding on the carved terrain,
passengers and things being hurled.
I look at the haunting beauty.

I hear the birds chirp on the trees.
I hear the flies buzz on the screen.
I hear the concerned mother complaining about the price of cheese.
Her son rolls his eyes, and volunteers to be mean.
I hear the sorrow beauty.

I feel the windows presence.
I look and hear its chilling essence.