Teresa González-Lee
	This poem is a recollection of the poet's childhood in Chile.  On this particular summer day, the poet writes, "...I witnessed for the first time the death of a bird.  The emotion was powerful for me.  I learned how rapidly and unexpectedly something beautiful can be vanished  and how important it is to have the revelation of the pivotal nature of life."
	Clouded Windows
	My window looks over my childhood patio. Resident roosters, timid chicks, welcoming fruit trees, visiting birds, convene here while Monarch butterflies knit murals in the air. On this day in the torrid Chilean summer of my twelfth year, I focus on a gallant young hen from Castile as she stretches her bosom toward the sun. I admire the certainty of her species, the proud peacock walk, and her Castilian charm in a Chilean hen coop. I think, as I hold my breath, that life is a spinning weathervane, for in a flash, rigor mortis stiffens the hen's young body and her terrified brain perceives the notion of change. Death can still all creatures, though I had believed beauty, like wealth, meant privilege-- but oh, what temporary houses and clouded windows these are.
	Click here for Spanish translation of Ventanas en Tinieblas
	Copyright © 2006 Teresa Gonzalez-Lee. All rights reserved.