Thin fog

thin gray fog obscures
the reliable rising sun;
choices mask "no need
to choose"

joy sweeps us up
into a farmhouse waltz
barn wood walls ring,
and do sing

the very melody that became stuck
 on the roof of our mouths --
resounding in the cupola ceiling

crystal beads growing brighter
as the million eyes readjust
to the dark, to the blatant
incision of trust-- carved
on wax, ice, yellow pine, rust

no time or interest
in stoking the fire:
friends come, hang out,
and disappear

it's the time of year
 to be clear
with how we spend
our free time

our investments in our friends never end
because the other is weathering an inner storm--
no balances need be drawn

the drawing room is saved
for spontaneous guests
as rocking chairs glide past

the  wrap around porch,
take wing, do reach
the furthest chagallian star
left for the dreamers--

whose capillaries course clearly--
a filigreed communication
with room for spaces, .
the holy breath

the listening room,
enlarged for comfort---
encased in liquid lapis

gets licked by border collies,
 resting in the coolness
of country corners,
resigned in pine


words/photo-kate lamberg (c) '19