Lullaby

I am building your shadowy past  
thousands of days you won't remember  
the yeast, the leaven  
of life inside this house  
the stories of the house  
a story for children

Here the pattern of feet  
weave paths your dreams will follow  
long long until death  
I fill your archetypes  
attic, cellar, stairwells  
doorways open into  
rooms you will forget

You will ache to recall  
perfumed bureau drawers  
where I keep my jewelry  
this portrait that hangs here  
how light skims the wall  
now at five o'clock  
when the spice of my meatloaf  
sharpens your belly

                                                                                    Chris Bazzett