Let me tell you what I saw.
Not exactly saw but felt.
A hill along a river was encircled by olive trees.
There two white walls, two stories tall, came together in a vee.
At the top where they joined there was one window.
It opened out onto a Spanish balcony.
Like a doll¹s house, the insides were exposed.
Stairways ascended to the single window.
One along the flank of each tall wall.
The house was buried in the ground beneath those ladders.
Kiva-like, it was full of daylight from a window in its earthroof.
A common space faced the pure privacy of rooms in slumber,
A palapa looking out into a well of light
Bounced within a plastered gully
Unroofed and gulping in the thick blue sky.
It was a lone house in the Andalucian countryside.
A flame in the darkness, a cave in the heat.
Designed for a landscape imagined before it was found
Like a poem at a loss for words.
