or Portland, or Spokane
A two-bed hideaway with pale green shutters
and a patchwork quilt of a garden. Neighbours
that bring wine and friendly company late at night
me and you, and our future children
will swing in the backyard. Porch light blazing
and moths fluttering in the rays of gold
that penetrate the darkness beyond our little nest-egg.
Autumn will bring gloom and rain will patter on the roof
but we can snuggle up on the couch.
I'll do my best to cook at thanksgiving
have our families to stay, talking loudly for hours, then sleeping
in every quiet corner and dimly lit study.
Sometimes, I'll seem faraway, in the land of bad habits and strangers
I'll stare out at the stars and wonder - what if I left?
and I can't promise that house will be ours forever
but right now there is nowhere I would rather be
than that little house, timber and glass
everything will be snug and warm, I promise.