Is it my imagination
Does my mind play
tricks on me?

Memories, shady and unclear,
prowl fleetingly,
glimpses of faces, events, happenings.
The girl in the window is one of these.

On a ribbon of New Brunswick highway,
many years ago, I saw her.
Young, mid teens, I suppose.
Dark hair, do I imagine a dusting of 
freckles across her nose and cheeks?
Dark eyes, pensive, staring out of the
school bus window. 

Does she remember me as I her?
Does she wonder about me, my life,
who I was, where bound? Am I just a 
childhood memory to her or have I disappeared,
like last week's weather?
Why do I still ponder her face, vague and distant?
She would be a mother now,
I suppose. Married, some children,
living in rural quietude.

I will never know, and it doesn't matter.
her life and my life never were entwined.
Memories fade and waver, quivering with
the weight of the years.
She will remain ghostly, unfocused,
but not forgotten. 
My mind and memory will not let
go of her.
She has attained eternity, as she lives
in my mind, unexplained,
quietly returning to me,
the girl in the window.

"The Girl In The Window" displayed with the permission of the author Jerry Riches
- Posted Wednesday, December 10, 2003 8:02:11 AM.

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