Chapter 1THE DREAM OF A HOUSE
There seems no question the house is mine.
I'm told it first at the start of the tour --
"This is yours, understand. Meant for you.
Permanent." I nod gratitude,
Containing the flower of joy in my mouth --I knew it would come if I waited, in time.
It's now all round me
-- and I catalog blessings
Tangible as babies: the floors wide teak
Boards perfectly joined, the walls dove plaster.
At either end a single picture,
Neither a copy -- Piero's Nativity
With angel glee-club, Vermeer's pregnant...