I don’t know this house at all
Other than I am told
It once was a store for calamine
I don’t know the colour on the wall
Other than it was sold
In the county’s interior decorator store
I listened in to last night’s conversation
If I may be so bold
I was only half-way to the Buddhist view
I heard arguments go to and fro
For and against; warm and cold
I was only half-way with the antagonist
I drink my tea, slow and sure
Looking out of the window
A clearer day; more light ahead
I drink my tea as I write these words
Thinking of walks on which to go
A calm for now, a future to second-guess
