Glass is a concept mostly lost in the animal world
unlike almost everything you can see through it,
so I can’t blame you for your endless,
if futile, efforts inside my apartment window.
In fact, I sympathized with you
knowing so well what it’s like
staring a deepest desire in the face
but only able to get so close.
I also pitied you
because there were only so few ways
our chance meeting could end.
Your pain
tied to the window pane,
we would leave each other alone
until you we’re too tired to keep not going on
and you laid yourself to rest.
If we could communicate,
a whistle and a pointed finger
would show you the open door.
If you weren’t so confident in yourself,
so angry or afraid,
I could take you in my hand
and bring you to safety.
However, as it was and may always be,
we are nothing that can benefit the other.
I felt guilty for the strike.
Perhaps I could have tried something else,
at least made some effort at a solution
but I could find no other way
than this cruel philosophy.
Some things just aren’t meant to be saved.