Consignment

The days dawns an unfamiliar purple,
shedding darkness of the winter sky.
We will toast to a rare warmth today -
and a home to be occupied later.

I have spoken soulfully of homes -
what do they mean -
on an ocean’s side,
or a looming shadow in a small town,
or the home I presently sit in
which has reinvented itself -
refuge, reception, reality, retreat.

Now shards of sunlight
break through the deepness,
punctuating what was supposed
to be a welcomed silence
after the children were gone.

We will trade in emptiness
for consecration
and the commotion of the city,
a gangland some still see it as.

Today only the dog breaks the hush,
in his unspoken pact to protect me.
In his tomorrow, and mine,
there will be many dogs and smells
to compete with my attention.

I don’t know how I will dwell,
In this new place we are making.
I feel only a heightened awareness
of someone re-purposing her life.

2/3/2012 AJW