Thursday, November 8, 2012

My Living Room, Castro Valley

It is my favorite room, 
the biggest living room
I've ever had.
I walk it end to end, 
let my hand slide down the stone hearth, finger
the artful molding, 
pose before the grand windows. 
My father pushes a chair to the windows. 
For a whole day he eyes the hills 
yellow as lions
and the Bay polished as steel, 
and the etched skyline
of San Francisco, 
and left and right the bridges--
silver threads curling across the water--
and through the cloak of fog
a sword of light 
pierces the heart of Treasure Island.
He is dying and he knows it.
But he wants to buy my house.