Beyond boundaries
Shuttered blinds
Guessing lines on faces
all of those have saving graces
What we see is not always conceived
Payment in kind
Who do you know with certainty
and the effects we project
Before during and after
Do you understand yourself enough
to communicate through life

Dream House
by Michael R. Burch

I have come to the house of my fondest dreams,
but the shutters are boarded; the front door is locked;
the mail box leans over; and where we once walked,
the path is grown over with crabgrass and clover.

I kick the trash can; it screams, topples over.
The yard, weeded over, blooms white fluff, and green.
The elm we once swung from leans over the stream.
In the twilight I cling with both hands to the swing.

Inside, perhaps, I hear the telephone ring
or watch once again as the bleary-eyed mover
takes down your picture. Dejected, I hover,
asking over and over, “Why didn’t you love her?”

Keywords/Tags: dream house, divorce, parting, separation, shuttered, weeds, trash can, mover, movers, moving, rejection, relocation