IN THIS HOUSE
Prone on the sagging divan
I see the breeze flirt with the curtains
Through the open window
Bolts of sun shoot into the room
Archways caress them
Into shadows of themselves
Landscapes warm wheat-hued walls
Taormina, Taranto, Rockport Harbor
Dream tips
Just when sleep soothes my aching back
Wind gusts the French doors wide
Waking my wandering mind
I could die in this house
Gary McLouth
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