It's a horizontal river rush of people and of colors
Of different shades and natures and tints
Gliding—either way
Both ways
All day, reflecting through the window
It's a horizontal river rush
Without the roar
Or whitecaps
So silently they walk no scuffling with the pavement
Muted by the window
Some stop to glance around
Some drift across the grass
Like water droplets without a path
Like water droplets on the glass when it rains
And it's a horizontal waterfall of people when it rains
With the river upside down
And those black umbrella rafts
Covering their hats and their heads
It's a slipping ripping
Colors bumping blending
Rafts colliding
Slopping sliding time
When the rain distorts things in the window
When it stops…
It's a horizontal tiny stream of people
Or a person walking
Head down in thought
And the wind slowly carrying off the droplets from the grass
And the glass
And the sidewalk turning white
When those gentle colors again begin to flow
Either way
Both ways
All day a thousand lives reflecting
Through the window
Around 1968 when I was attending Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton, FL, I lived in their dormitory. I had a ground floor room with a permanently sealed window that overlooked the campus. One rainy afternoon I was watching the students meandering across the campus and I wrote this poem. The alliteration in this poem makes it fun to read aloud.
I Used to Think All Light Came from the Sun
by Vic Zarley
I used to think all light came from the sun
But when I saw your eyes, I had to realize I was wrong
And when I touched your hand the light came through
Light radiates from you--and now I'm glowing too, uh huh
Chorus:
To talk in words
To me seems quite absurd
In describing you
And all the things you do-- for me
At first, my love, you seemed so far away
But then a smile crept in--and brightened up the shining day
Now clouds that hide the sun and hide the day
Affect us not at all, 'cause we're immune to things that way
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