I want windows

I want windows that bulge
like a two month paunch
ajar, just
for air.

This makes others warm as amber
pink as peonies
growing wild on a blond bank of willows.

I am white as milk,
cold as roots
logical as bricks
as I wash my sheets and make more soup.

I dont loiter at the shops
I buy a some mint and coriander,
stare for hours at the Cadburys tea tin,
feel full when I hear the school round empty out across the street.

In the Norwich EDP
I read that Mrs Ferrenetti
lost the will to walk when her son died.

The company bought her a wheelchair
and now she's back at work two days a week.
The advert on the opposite page reads
'modern life, made cleaner'