Sundrops turn twin towers to diamonds,
as through the haze of square feet trod
I see our future day-to-day
spread out, a banquet
across the widescreen window,
over the hills, gardens, skyscrapers
towards grey-green mountains where it’s cool.
Surveying empty surfaces, blank walls,
from the corner of my eye
I spy my purple mug
on a bright white counter,
my books rehoused on naked shelves
and hear new life’s approaching hum
pouring into holes that fit
between treasures that are not yet there.
it stretches past imagination,
baiting me to trace its contours
on my heart
and turn a vacant space into a home.