Dreams Like Houses

the way we hold onto a dream
reworking stories long since past
sorting through a homeless cast
of floating masks and ghosts
rewinding all its Kodachromes
for one last time before we wake
we keep vigil also on the family home
curled around its sills and beams
counting out its boards and shakes
its secret sheets and themes
to pause at least one long night
before the ruin of day appears
before the wastes of frozen light
drown our fires in their gears
when the distracted years
are too preoccupied to name
all the pictures our addresses frame


May 18th, 2021
Kailua