The Window
Bernard Waters
STRANGE lights flicker down the road
Past the window of dreams,
Each guiding a mystic load
With its flickering beams,
And having passed, sheds its rays
Down other stranger, lonelier ways ;
They leave me gloriously alone.
Drunk with nothingness, breathing the unknown
Soft sweet absence of those beams.
Moulding a vision lately flown
Past the window of dreams.