Lush hedges, iron gates, beveled glass doors,
patio doors opening to a river view of birds
on the wing and gardenia petals wafted
into rooms where there is no one there:
I was looking for a home. This is a house.
All it would have taken were those dancing
figures, reflections on smudged chromes,
the frolic of rolling oranges on speckled tiles,
kitchens redolent with burning bagels,
and those sounds we cuddle by as rain
patters like little feet on windows we will
look out of waiting for the peal of children
running naked through the rain.
—Albert B. Casuga
Prompt: "No one lists these other views:" From Luisa Igloria's "Listings", Via Negativa, 06-25-11, http://www.vianegativa.us/2011/06/listings.html