These Windows

By John Aldred

These windows on my nose
Have become a little cloudy
And the sounds around
Are only half as rowdy.

I'm screwing up my eyes
To pierce the gathering gloom
And funnelling my hand
To a word across the room.

I've had the windows flannelled
But still there's fuzzy on the centrefold
And sounds are battery channelled,
Do you think I'm getting old?

Copyright 1999 John Aldred