so we made it here
to the Promised Land
the long sought
prize
now in our hands
the two cats and yard
from the first refrain
out our window
sill
like a picture frame
and the wood floor plans
we sketched all spring
I followed
through
on everything
from the ceiling cracks
to the baseboard trim
I crossed every
inch
cleansed every sin
and what remains
the immaculate
is this the face
of
Providence?
I am scratched off clean
new coat of eggshell white
still, I
am not complete
I am a prototype