-Hearth and Home-
I like to walk badly
while gawking at houses.
Somewhere in the peeling
yellow, and bare-historical-wood-rot,
there is something worth
stubbing my toe.
I muse after stone
and story. Lose my feet
in boarded windows.
I hoard a good archway, pergola
molding, and spire.
That irregular load-beam protrusion
needs my day dreams.
Perhaps
this was once a duplex,
but now it has bad stucco
and it leans like a widow
who too late in life has to figure
living alone. He forgot to shave
this morning, and has misplaced
the groceries.
Each cracked pane reminds him
of wordlessness. And he leaves his
gate at a rusty discordant angle.
Maybe one day I will groan
and list groggily out of
my vinyl siding. Shake off
my Grecian columns,
and abut a courtyard.
Until then,
