Glass-front house,
sharp-edged artbook tables,
baby-proofing was saying no,
or let her learn the hard way,
cold marble,
above the butcher block
I used to perch on was
the skylight a man fell through,
missing me by inches;
pressure on his cuts didn’t stop the blood from
staining the floor and countertop dark red. 
Gallery white walls and brick,
Par-kay floors,
red velour sofa in a
modern organic shape
redwood siding painted gray.
The Eucalyptus tree centered
the enclosed garden,
the avocado tree’s unpicked fruit
fell and split in the ivy,
eaten by neighborhood dogs and raccoons.