you, house

By Mr. Sugar

 

no warm wind flows

through this place-

 

empty space

parked in a paved lot.

 

lines lead dully

to an uneventful end

dully-

like a grounded rectangle

of crab-grass

 

rooted tightly,

the light soft memory of you,

house----

light blue in sunlight and

dressed in white trim

 

tightly-rooted

the light, soft memory of you

clutching the earth—

square space

not wanting anyone to take it away.

 

Copyright Homeless Grapevine Issue#16, Cleveland, OH