Daydream

If I were rich, I would buy my grandparents' house in East Texas. My cousin tells me it's abandoned now.

In my reverie, I restore the quilt boxes, the clawfooted tub, and a small cherry wood desk. Rebuild the screened porch as it was a half-century ago.

I envision the dining table pushed against the wall. Space for three. Above it hangs a brittle print of the "Lone Wolf." As a child, I follow the tracks in the snow up the hill where the wolf, longing for comfort, looks down on city lights.

winter approaches
my grandmother's desk
now my daughter's

Lynn Edge, Contemporary Haibun, 2008.