The walls echo with the rush of words.
The caroling of seasons
has blown away,
their notes disintegrated
in the dunes of forever.
When I was a child
life was the span of one day.
I tunneled through the earth
to the other side.
Boards needed to be nailed.
I marveled at the taste
of wood and flowers in an apple,
and no one ever went away.
They loved each other too much.
Everyone stayed.
I listen.
I hold them.
Wind blows through the door.