1651
5.190
9.vii.24
the house is back
for the dreambook
you dreamt it here
and just as it was
she is pottering
garden inward
they’re here too
on the driveway
there’s a conversation
there’s something new hung inside
it doesn’t matter about time
no one thinks of that
it’s the old house
the house as was
before it was sold
before the strangers
what they did
had to do undo
still here
there’s a part of you
reasons it out
impatient for the day of tasks
sometimes you won’t even see
you’re in the other place now
it doesn’t matter
let it go
barely light when you remember
how it is
we are
as if the day were put aside
the same sandstone birds
as far from sleep as ever
writing in the dark
on the open page
writing over all
that was before
so we might find it here
like this
a penance to have dreamt
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