2008, a dream i had, through a digital camera

the light is too smooth and even to be from any of our suns

perfect twilight

without shadows

an eternal eclipse day.

the light is high on the hills across the valley

which are vast, and show their shelved cliff face-

deep and smooth and even,

home to castle, cottage, garden, garage, marble brick and stone.

we lived HERE, a storybook pagetype palace of a home

for free! an exchange, somehow.

my grandfather is there, and he lifts beams and boards like air to clear away the silence and dust of stillness that has settled over the house for 100 thousand years, a week, a month, in the sun

not rotting, but waiting.

waiting

for me, for us

to return to home and house and hold.

the inside is dusky

empty, vast.

low ceilings to wide rooms, too big to be lived in.

memory says otherwise,

stickered and cluttered in piles and scatters of leftovers

secret cubbies, nooks and crannies

painted by x, painted by y, painted by moms and dads and storybooks and childhood bedrooms,

dreams and sleep and pretend and play and rest and snack and sun and grass

chest and mama's breath and i am so tired, let's just go take a nap.

cool heavy blankets

a nest of warmth, a happy dreamless sleep

of function! to run and play again tomorrow

the grass is waiting

the stream is waiting

the sun is waiting

sticks and rocks and bugs are waiting

come and play!