After Mark Slavin's Watercolor, “Two Windows”

In the one facing me the sun bleeds

Weapon-like, stabbing with its petals

Lit up by evening into the room

Like a hand covering the western sky,

And in the other pane, winter

Behind a dusky watery splash, snow

On the ground between misty trees.

You might be wearing a helmet,

And going left, away from the fire's

The best option, if you want to see home

Again, your people, your animals,

The trees in your yard, if you want to hope

Again that everything turns out best, to sit

Where two windows make the corner

A place to be, late afternoon,

With the sun coming up in one,

Going down in flames in the other,

That place at the back or side of the house

Where the dreams that life counts upon

Have half a chance to find you.