behindtheax

a pleasant dream

There is this house, my aunt’s old house.
Not the one she lives in in-real life
The one she lives in when I dream about her.
The one just up the road from my sister’s place.
The one situated far back from the main road and hidden by
woods.
I love this house and so one day when my aunt
(my favourite aunt) decides she wants to live in town,
I buy this house and convince
my husband to move from the city

and in my excitement I fill the crisper with apples
because horses stroll all the time through the long grass
out back, swishing grey and black tails -
behind them rolling hills slide slowly down into
treetops

This house smells of cedar trees
and has this wide gleaming countertop, separating two large rooms.
So perfectly designed for crowds and conversation
And knowing family is once again spread out all around and near me
I listen impatiently for the sound of car motors
and the break of dry branch under tire.

When they arrive I will ask if I can host thanksgiving this year.
Fill this house with the smell of cranberries

And knowing in this dream, I will be granted all things -
I happily drag my husband by the hand to the back window
And point where I want a shed full of chickens to go
and a porch swing to face the hills and open sky,
and I think about fall leaves and the sweater I will wear
And the frost and the snow
and my tracks to and from the blue tarp, which hides the firewood.

And it is only upon waking that this seems implausible
And I wonder if it is because my aunt never owned a house like this?

posted by mary j. @ 4:06 PM