By my uncle’s
pub & garage
(where I looked at Superman comics
for the first time ever)
lived a house
made almost entirely of violet
kissed with a wild yellow.
I, amazed
having never seen a house
wearing such beautiful
colours.
I would look
at it for hours
at different hours.
get up at dawn
to see the colours
creep into it
as it threw off the night
or wait up to see
the night
slowly eat its colours
slipping into sleep.
It bloomed
In my child’s mind
summer after summer
the wonder
of my five year old world.
It was maybe mauve
perhaps a pale purple
or maybe its yellow
was a pink
a chameleon
changing colours
as I added years to years
& grew up.
It was as if a house
could be a perfect painting
or a beautiful flower.
I watched it
wrapped in an intense blue sky
or set on fire
by a passing sunset.
It was
an ordinary
everyday miracle
just nonchalantly
hanging around.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tall-house-going-up-the-hill-for-a-scarlett-woman/
