Because it was summer once
And the air was full of mosquitoes
We shut our windows.
Because it was winter once
And there was fog in the air
We shut them again.
We kept shutting our windows
Every summer and every winter
Until we forgot the memory of open windows.
We forgot that there were spring and autumn in between.
We forgot to look at the sky and breathe the air scent
We forgot to look at the creeks on the walls of our neighbours (and our neighbours)
And the marks that seeping rain had left behind
In the form of mud lines on a wall.
We forgot to look out of our windows and our rooms because we had shut them
Through summer, and through winter.
And we forgot to listen to the clatter of the construction around,
A school bus making its way through lanes of life,
A wife smiling at her husband as she wave him goodbye,
A mother looking lovingly at her children as they leave for school,
An elderly woman watering her plants,
We forgot to look at night, changing into mornings
A days sky changing its color,
As it travels from sunny to cloudy and back to sunny,
We forgot to look at the shadows of the houses on the walls on moonlit nights,
Or shadows fighting for their place on otherwise dark nights.
We stopped watching out of windows,
And catching glimpses of birds flying or sudden gushes if air blewing leaves or those first drops of rain on the surface.
We missed all the sounds and sights
And we forgot that we were missing them anyway.
We keep our windows shut.