Rear Window

I love the Hitchcock movie Rear Window and one sleepless night in Glasgow when I was gazing out of our high-rise hotel window I was reminded of James Stewart spying on the inhabitants of the building across from his apartment. A bit of mindful writing while gazing out into the night, and a lot of playing with what I’d written, resulted in this poem:

Rear Window

The midnight sky is cloudless.
Not black but deep violet,
fading to pink over
the high-rise buildings.
The stars are hidden,
drowned by Glasgow’s
sodium glow.

Unseen traffic streams like
a young river pouring
over an upland fall,
or the murmuring night voice
of a remembered ocean,
overlaid by raucous calls from
rose-tinged herring gulls.

Our hotel window barely opens.
I can feel welcome cool air
slipping through the gap,
imagine watery scents
drifting on the breeze.
I long to put my face out
and inhale the cool night.

I hear helicopter rotors whirring;
twist my neck to see its black
outline and flashing lights.
Then the wail of a passing siren,
an ambulance perhaps,
draws my gaze
earthwards.

The block opposite has seven storeys
of floor-to-ceiling windows.
Most are black obsidian
gleaming with dark reflections.
Some are clear radiant squares
into which I peer, straining
to unravel their secrets.

I see a few miniature humans,
starting the new day in
obscure activities, and I,
James Stewart style,
am filling in the back story.
Like Rear Window,
without the murder.

And down in the garden of shadows
our closest neighbours
are the quietest of all.
Silently they slumber on,
overlooked by night lights
that turn their
headstones gold.

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About Carol Ross

Interested in therapeutic writing.
This entry was posted in Mindful Writing, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Rear Window

  1. Anita Hamilton says:

    Nicely written Carol. I felt like I was there too.

  2. Christine says:

    A favourite movie of mine too, Carol. Love your poem.

    • Carol Ross says:

      Thanks Christine. It was fascinating watching what all the tiny people were doing in their doll’s apartments. No-one seemed to like blinds or curtains!

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