Let it in

A hole in my window

Let it in

There is a tiny
stone shaped hole
in my bedroom windowpane.
The light glows through it
as if a baby lightening bug
took up residence
above the dusty sill.
The wind hums through
that tiny stone shaped hole
in a single note melody
which mummers the first letter of your name.

In time that hole
became a crack
radiating spider-like
in a web, up to the bluebell curtains
where today, a chunk crumbled down
with a tinkle.

Did you throw that rock?
Last month, in Montreal?
Because I remember the red in your beard
and the warm hug of your flannel
and the way you touched my arm
like a little moth.

Soon that hole
will break all the glass
in a flurry of transparent
snowflakes.
Just maybe then,
I’ll let all the wind in.