The Window

She makes herself believe
That candle flame will never burn out
On a side of her bedroom window
She makes herself believe
When she touches the fire it doesn't hurt

She believes in her small bedroom window
From her childhood
All she could see from it; a driveway
The garage, tall yellow flowers her grandmother planted
A well, and a neighbor's house.

The neighbor's house she remembers well
One - legged man used to live there
He lost his leg during World War II
She and his grandchildren used to steal
Tomatoes from the garden
Before they turned red and ready
Green tasted good.

She was a kid back then
Now she doesn't even like tomatoes

She remembers many different tastes
As she climbed the tree and tasted its sap at four years old
The taste of morning air
The taste of her mother's lipstick
As she came to see her every Friday
The taste of her grandmother's old fur
The taste of the train station at 3:00 A.M.
And her grandfather's hands

She believes in her grandfather
As he waited for her to get off that train
And run into his arms
To hug him as tight as she could

She knew he was not going to wait forever
She knew some day the window would no longer be hers
And now tomatoes will have a chance to turn red...