by Katie Rogers
We bought this house
these treelined streets
sparkling waters and cozy hearth
suburbia-scented life
chlorine and oak
summer asphalt
with schools and dogs and gardens
lush green space
in mind.
We lost our baby girl
the week we moved in.
I live in this house
listen to the waterfall
watch the crossing guard
stop traffic for bouncing bright jackets
from windows
in rooms too big,
and empty, for us.
I smell mildew.
And I can’t get the fireplace lit.
