Home Unbound

an unfamiliar plain 

until 

lines sprout from the ground

intersecting with 

one another,

becoming

angles

angles

blossom, 

morphing into

a square

a streetlight

burns low 

in the night 

sky 

illuminating 

the past 

square balloons,

filling with air 

until 

it is 

a 

cube

a red oak 

on the corner 

casts 

a long shadow

across

the lawn

moving closer,

perspective gained

the cube gives 

way,

gives birth, 

to a 

house 

in my mind’s 

eye,

the house

implodes and

transforms 

into

a

home

memories

spill from

its seams

like warm wax 

dripping from the 

belly 

of a

candle

it must be Christmas,

I think

it must 

be

time.