Resting her elbows on the edge of the sink, The woman at the window peels an orange. She watches from the window for a visitor who never arrives. At night she sees a fox gazing though the glass and she looks deeply into his dark eyes. The woman tips her head to one side in childlike curiosity. As though receiving an answer she closes her eyes and nods in recognition. One morning the woman is awaken by the rustling of leaves. She peeks out the window and sees two young does nibbling at seedlings beneath fallen leaves. A smile plays across her face. Another day a small bird hurls his small body at the window and falls softly to the ground below. The woman at the window considers a small tuft of yellow feathers which clings to the window, delicate and beautiful. She then presses her hand to the window and closes her eyes. Resting her elbows on the edge of the sink, The woman at the window is rinsing a bowl. She sees a young squirrel napping in an oak tree and remembers a small sketch her mother had made. She remembers a song without words and begins to sing in a voice inaudible. The acorns are falling hard and rolling off the roof, past the window to the ground below to take root or be eaten up. These are all her wishes. Resting her elbows on the edge of the sink, The woman at the window relaxes chin into hand... and watches. -Linda Green