Raison de

this is the house that you built
not the way you’d do it again
arguably – but nonetheless
a mute testament

you made the colours calm
and the walls permanent
at least I stayed free knowing
it was your choice

if it was yours; the lonely
days distance themselves
in fragrant innuendo, scents
that cloud reason

they grew here where you
used to be – do they plague
you too in your raison
de renaissance?
© 16 Dec 2009, I. D. Carswell