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Dark House

I garnish footings of my dark house
with belladonna and roses,
sprinkled on layers of ash.
I plant trees, their roots clash underground
beneath foundations that must stay solid.
How swiftly they grow
through quick sand below well mown grass.
Their foliage covers over long before
I’ve even put on doors, placed slate on the roof,
fitted clear glass.
Some days my dark house will shine,
stay steady, a wonder to those who call.
On others it crumbles into nothing at all,
with just a few leaves on view,
littering the lawn.

2 Feb 18

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