migrate

Perhaps this is where to begin.
The first thing I did when I
migrated here, grabbed this land,
was to dig a hole in the ground.
Then I put an above-ground
swimming pool in this hole.

I thought I had made a
swimming pool. I was wrong.
I had made a vat of
walnut paint.

But I jump ahead. Perhaps
I should start here.

One day I came home and
someone had removed, had
grabbed, the walls. I looked
out where the windows had
been to the playhouse I had
made for Nelle and Emma.

I went to where the window
had been and saw this machine.

***

*