Poetry Editor’s note: Michael Lind, a premier public intellectual and academic, is also a stellar poet, so it goes without saying that we at Liberty Island are thrilled to begin featuring his work, starting today. A new poem of his will run each week.


A window pane, a blank, defined

panel of blue in black, you find

as evidence of life in this

indifferent metropolis.

Recursions of a stymied mind,


flickerings magnify a blind

computer or TV aligned

with someone else who is amiss,

                a window pane


itself.  This midnight is the kind

in which, no matter how you wind 

the dial, you hear only the hiss

of static leaked by an abyss

until you sense out there, behind

               a window, pain.




Photo by cocoparisienne (Pixabay)