widow window.

I deserted my window,

Where I used to sit,

Now and then a little bit,

I forsook my only screen,

Where I could see the world,

And couldn’t be seen,

Till  the snow prevailed,

Everything was solid cold,

Frost and despair began to wade

Across the snow in the meadow,

A boy worked his way

With little flesh on his bones,

More snow on the scattered stones,

An old woman followed the jay,

Half bent with weight of years,

More than she bears,

The boy fell on the soft white bed,

With her stick, the boy she poked,

He was still and dead,

“motionless” said she to herself,

“ passed away the little elf”

Then she carelessly abandoned,

Leaving him as my widow window.