The House with No Windows - March 21, 2026

perhaps it’s an apocalypse bunker

or has some deep secret to conceal

or someone with a light allergy,

maybe a safe house, a hermit’s haven

there could be windows I don’t see

on the back side, true north -

I am tempted to stake it out,

if sunglasses and tinted windows

drive out of the garage, and

I could follow the car to see

if its destination reveals anything

but the jackpot would be walking

around to the backyard to look in

and oh, if I was young, that chance

would be daring me from the sidewalk,

figuring a quick escape plan

before taking the sprinter’s

long deep breaths