a small room next to the den
with a foldable door for privacy
a recipe of wood paneling and flooring
a Zenith tv — a ticking wall clock time bomb
window to the world guarded by maple tree
a window to the backyard
where I could almost touch big maple tree
if I stuck my arm out the window
in fall, I’d make a wish whenever a brightly
colored leaf would glide through the cooling air
falling to the soft grass below
they never came true
at night in bed, window open
feeling the cool october breeze
hearing the rumble of the big trucks
through the darkness out of Chicago
or rolling towards the city
when older pretending I was Thoreau
in my little one room cabin
with just enough space for a twin bed
a desk for writing diaries or short stories
no fireplace
when I became a man of the world
a bon vivant
I moved to the basement
warm in winter, cool in summer
and a place to hide from tornadoes in summer
and strangers in the night
