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This home rests- a calm ledge bordering
an unknown of serene trees;
serene in their age, their gathered wisdom,
untroubled by the music wafting
out this window, music riding upon the scents
of lavender and rum, soothing a week
of rundown nerves. This is beauty. This is
a foolish declaration, embarrassing
and sentimental. But the birds! They whistle
from their world. You smile
without knowing why, contentment warming
your heart, even as crows scream
past your perch. And it is yours:
your life, your home, your world.
There is no loneliness about this, none
at all, in this lived-in place. This paradise
extension of an age-old dream…