Elevation

The chimney is a black rectangle

leaking a single coil of smoke.

The windows are four yellow squares,

even though the perspective is wrong

and the door is too small for a man.

It is a fortress of Crayola,

a dream of shelter drawn with a heavy hand.

In the top right corner,

the sun is a violent, spiky ball,

its rays reaching down like fingers

trying to touch the peaked roof.

It’s a bright, frantic optimism

that assumes the sky is always blue

and the walls will never lean.