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