when i think of home
white walls and red tile roof
halfway up the hill with deer and quail
i remember the backyard deck
our dalmatians
who escaped if they could
into the christmas tree farm next door
three lawns to mow
the smell of wet hot grass
as i dumped out
the lawnmower bag in the garden
my mother scaring off the dogs
from digging in the corn with mousetraps
she got the snails
with small saucers of beer
the dogs would eat grapes off the vine
they'd sit under the vines
eat in the shade
i was the one that taught them
later friends would come over
i picked my room because i could see them
when they came up the street
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