Copper House

midnight struck, I go out the side window

Ben, childhood friend, waits with knapsack, in hand 

once, at Berkman’s Hill, we sit on a bench

stare towards the hilltop, at star dusted heights 

it’s rounded peak, poised a bright, cop-per house 

through the center roof, grew a strong oak tree 

twisted, swollen trunk, roots thick in display

around, the base copper trim, grass and mound

morning, light blue, now narrow path in sight 

rabbits, take shelter, in barrows delight 

up and down, squirrels rule, the glowing fort 

across curved branch high, birds on a wire

like crews, watching over Berkman’s tower

dancing brown, upon the bronze shimmer glow

chirping, coos, gold leaves floating, on small backs

 yellow hues, glaze over the great oak limbs 

doe, bird, prairie dog bask in falling orange 

hot sun eye, on a caterpillar nap 

a view ,on earth’s timeless bedrock story

Then, an old man gray with a young man tall

walked, and talked along the east copper wall

they stood in their suites, passed papers between 

at noon, the great bell, sounded from the park

the gents, were gone, just before the ground shook

thunder deep, the copper began to quake

a storm, a shrill, a purple beam bright

daylight, starlight, silver clouds, silver light

whipping wild, like a tail on a kite

we dashed to see, where the star might have fell

sure enough, at the top Berkman’s Hill

halfway up the trail, we halt and we duck

a silhouette, a lady in a hat 

hair of almond ash, tied back in a bun

clothes layered of linen, and lace undone

she held, a basket and paisley suitcase 

a sheep dog followed, three paces behind

bag in teeth, collar stuffed with two daisies

they climbed, and formed a narrow steady line

they went through the gate, rested in the yard

a rumbling from the earth, put us on guard

we saw the fallen silver star, grow wide

up from the ground, cut the house in two 

lady and sheepdog, seemed to be collect

drawing from her suitcase, needed effects

she threw about blankets of braid for shade

no time to lose daylight now fading fast

we run to greet the lady and the dog 

she met us at the top with a handshake 

through copper rooms where vines grew up the walls

copper balconies of rose bush and tree

tasted garden fruit, water sweet and blue

other children came up the path to dwell

young smiles, ears, feet, hands, laugh and laugh and laugh

they climbed the twisted trunk to that bird line

the lady proclaims we all can enjoy

a place now home for child, squirrel, owl 

carefree, young red cheeks, daring wild eyes

now all rightful owners of Berkman’s hill  

Sunlite, star stuck, copper magic abode  

Now at night’s nearing, the moon bids us off 

back down the hill over flower patches

around crystal stone, rock metal astray

over moss and wintered grass brown tall shade

Ben and I, so filled to the brim

agreed for tomorrow to meet here again.







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