Circular Windows

Like eyes
Starting to 
Look back
The two o’s
Make circular
The track
Which never
Took off down
The street
But always
Followed 
The road
Forsaken

But once
Allowed to
Peer out
The envisioned
Was elevated
By forward vision
For glass
Never reciprocates
The same light
At any point
In time
The pane
Makes us different
In a singular way