Through the broken window

Through the
broken window,
the frame hanging limply
onto a rusted hinge,
a patch of green,
in the far distance,
she stood
gazing at life
with a childlike wonder.
In the far distance
a solitary blade of grass
stood soaked
in the fresh glory
of an iridescent winter morning.

With an unsure thrust
she pushed the panes ajar,
a gust of wind
rushed in,
sprinkling
fresh mist and dew, 
and the musky inebriation
of fress grass
in far distance!

'Love' she wrote
with a finger
on the windowsill;
love and the subtle beauty
of all things mundane!