On a winter afternoon
We wander along
Lombardy Lane,
Long ago
The Laguna neighborhood
Of my grandparents. 

The winter light penetrates deep
Into the bungalows
Set close to the street.
Woods warm to the long winter rays.
Small spaces–
No one home, it seems,
So we linger long to look. 

Objects loved and used,
Artfully arranged
And edited.
Absent curtains or shades
We’ve been invited in. 

We imagine the return
Of those who dwell there– 
Gathering in the last warmth
Of the day,
Preparing for the coming darkness. 

–Susan Martin