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.