The Dark House of Light

The tree covered the view
To windows on the top floor
As two lower windows opened
To see the silver lake. In broad
Daylight, this flowing mirror
Illuminated the brightness
Of the moon not in attendance.

A desolate dwelling dimly drawn
Notice the interminable dusk
Casted upon its white walls:
Discrete shadows, a singular lamp
Post, tranquil radiance striking
The eye, a strange harmony

Oblivious to the cerulean sky.
The residence enveloped by woods
Long thriving in isolation
Housing unseen creatures beneath
Wide branches, dark limbs, lofty roots
Inching deeper into the earth.


After Magritte