Rotting wood Grass un-mown Play with sticks and stones In between squirrel funerals And in this home who was i But a child dreaming
Wood logs Fire stoves It was not a home itty bitty play house Cabin no. it was simply boredom
And in that house yonder hill Windows square and high Old radio in serenade no. it was just a cage
And those cottage flowers daisies Yellow paint (endless skies) With its rickety rocking chair no. just an ephemeral cheer
Old apartment Endless stairs Cut up melon and chlorine Home for old memories no. it was a dwelling for rotting prunes
And in this house Large windows Simple tiny rooms Comfort in confines we played our lives like tunes Climbing tree and creeping grape Home a tiny nook but no...
it is a castle guarding dreams