Poetry – The View

He drew the shutters; 

The view was constant.
The car park in Smart & Final
The busy street;
Passing cars;
The church steeple beyond.
It was not a view he enjoyed.
It was ordinary, mundane.
That’s not what he had craved from life.
Where was the adventure?
Where was that excitement?
Why did it elude him?
Why was he jaded?
He’d wanted to change the world.
When did the world change him?

—Linus Fernandes