Palinode 12

Your design here:

We are not in a city.
We are not in a row home.

Ours stands alone.
Ours stands alone in a prairie.

Though you imagine the grain swaying--
Though you imagine the walls swaying--
It is only
The grain,
The wind,


      our    walls    stay         put

• mine
    there    windows     in

• &
    are    doorway     the

• his
    four    changing    drawer

• I
    there    fixed        in

• mean
    more    carpet    the
      by      to          cabinet
      the      wood

I design the sky clear.
I invite them in.

“Open the back door and call in the children,” you say.

The sky, nothing is boisterous.

“Baby,” I think, “we don’t have any yet.”