yellow  house

She sleeps her dreams her own
his mind ruminating, to full for sleep 

endlessly discussed children's problems
not to be solved by any movement they will make,
time has seen to that 

the endeavor inside the yellow house
ineffectual, yet filled with eruptions of red and amber passion
going both north and south

after midnight or in the noon  sun
thoughts,  fill and fade into
the recesses of the  house, the shade of
churning creeks during spring rains

bodies join,  spirits twist
under the load of the unknowable 
the unbearable weight of the future

to late to hold back, a wheel has come off
it's time  to arrive, unavoidable 
the yellow house will soon join the flock of memories
felt but not fully executed.