Open Houses

All day the house
with open windows
at the mercy of

mowers passing by
bringing their noise
disturbing my child

at the point of sleep
also the scent unheard of
for many months if not

more—how smell is
the seat of memory
bringing these other

houses into focus for
a moment which after
all is all we have

why not spend the loveliest
day we have had so far
in thrall to nostalgia

that is not even lost
witness how a day alive
is one day more to remember

the smell of a house
cut grass and wood shards
splinters of the past

at the edge of identified
blurry at the circumference
but dangling ever so

persistently in my lungs