[return to Contents Page]

Lynn Edge

Daydream

If I were rich, I would buy my grandparents' house in East Texas. My cousin tells me it's abandoned now.

In my reverie, I restore the quilt boxes, the clawfoot tub, and a small cherry wood desk. Rebuild the screened porch as it was a half-century ago. I envision the dining table pushed against the wall. Space for three. Above it hangs a brittle print of the "Lone Wolf." As a child, I follow the tracks in the snow up the hill where the wolf, longing for comfort, looks down on city lights.

winter approaches
my grandmother's desk
now my daughter's