72
OPEN
THE
BLINDS
“Let
the
light
in!”
you’d
say.
“I
hate
being
shrouded
in
darkness.”
I
just
didn’t
get
it.
I
preferred
to
tilt
them,
so
the
setting
glare
Didn’t
obscure
the
tv
screen,
Or
close
them
completely
at
night
When
the
lamp
was
on,
So
passersby
couldn’t
gawp
in,
Or
keep
the
kitchen
roller
down
So
the
dog
wouldn’t
see
me
up
And
bark
incessantly
for
its
breakfast.
Now,
I
can’t
stand
a
dim
en-‐suite,
Or
vertical
strips
blocking
my
garden
view;
Too
late
I
crave
the
warmth
and
light
–
Six
months
after
you’ve
left.
By
Niall
McGrath