I Could Live There
I Could Live There
A colonial perched
on a leafy hillside—its yard
a backslope of rhododendron
and weed, a bit of grass
here and there—
I could live there, I think
as the train rolls by.
But then I see a perfect wood
of evenly spaced pines
and long to lie on the warmed
fallen needles, their scent a relief
from housekeeping tedium.
I imagine other homes I’ve seen
on my journeys, how each embodies
another fantasy of mine
before they disappear into the next.
Now I live in an idyll
of woodland and sea, native plants
requiring little care, as rivulets
carve out their course, crows caw
and everyone who visits says
I could live here.
A native of Pittsburgh, Mark Saba’s most recent book publication is Flowers in the Dark (poetry). Other works include Calling the Names (poetry), Two Novellas: A Luke of All Ages / Fire and Ice, and Ghost Tracks: Stories of Pittsburgh Past. His work has appeared widely in literary magazines around the U.S. and abroad. He is also a painter, and recently retired from Yale University as a medical illustrator and graphic designer. He now lives in Maine. Please see marksabawriter.com.
