Hanging Window - Gold Leaves

There were many shades she tried

To fit in the frame, she pined for marble halls

But none hung at all

But as she leaned up on her side

Not in some profiled design

But rented room

With winding view

She sat

The light rose

Then went

As if a chair was pulled

From hanging window

And as the avenue came through it

She heard the barking yards and the police cars compose

And held it close

Now her frame it goes

On hanging window

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