Looking out my Window

Looking out my Window

Looking out my window I saw the same trees I had seen for years,
but now the bright green colours engraved on my memory
were slowly turning into brassy orange tones.
Almost melting away with the warm summer breeze that I could still feel going through my bones for ever.
My mind soon forgot the image of the bright leafy wood swaying in the June evenings.
A new vision of it restored in my brain. I had forgotten what those groves used to look like every time I gazed out my open window.
I now sit here wondering which picture of these trees will remain in my thoughts in years to come.
– the crisp autumn evenings looking out the window where I ponder on the winter to come;
– or maybe those dazzling mornings in the spring when I’d romanticise the summers approach.
But now I think I’ll just remember them as trees, because
growing through the years they will lose their meaning to me
as I forget every teenage worry I used to have
while looking out my window.

By Dayna Kelleher