Tag Archives: house

The Link

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The Link

At dusk the house blinks, as if it is just waking up
Though like an owl, its eyes were open all day

And the house only sleeps deeply for about eleven seconds
At a time. Like the owl, the house can rest

Half its brain more fully by closing one eye.
How the house’s dreams must differ from ours–

What would our dreams be like if we could see only
What our left brain or right brain most desired?

Like the house, the owl knows nothing beyond
Containment. Its mouth is small and full of earth.

Like the house, the owl makes its home
Close to the dense trees where the paths

Are too narrow for larger things to bother it,
Blends in with its surroundings. Why do we

Think the owl is wise and the house empty
Of soul? Even its rapidly beating heart, matching

That of a baby, and its ferocity at its nest
Staring down the hawk will not obtain it the favor

Of the God of the woman in the house. The moon
Can be seen through the top loop of the porch swing’s

S-hook from where the shadow crouches, feeling
For a spare key. The owl’s pupils flare, then its lower

eyelids rise as it settles in again; the thing on the porch
has scared the prey from the yard. In one room above

The house begins to dream.

Conversations (X) — to the houses

Conversations (X) — to the houses

When we are asleep, after talk and touch,
And the music of your voice, even in my mind,

Has drifted into the blanketing silence
And there is nothing left but the breathing

Of our separate souls, then the houses
Begin to sing. Across the ways out

And the ways home that only houses know
They sing, houses who’ve never seen

The other’s siding or heard rain pelt
The other’s roof, but have shared

The job of sheltering us. Their song
Builds a new house for us we will never move

Out of, a bed always comfortably unmade,
A dog growing old sleeping in the corner,

A piano by the screen door, waiting.