Cast aside the motor cars
The blur as they speed by-
Ignore the flying engine birds
The jolt dropped in the sky-
Cut off the desire
To look in every direction-
Come back and focus on this perception-
Right in front are leaves of sunshine
Points of brown on every tip-
Spots of scattered red
Hanging in mid drip-
The soft and hidden boards
Of that house barely seen-
The secret door and broken window
Where an outline once would lean-
Among the brush a restful place
Basted in memories-
From the chaos look and see
How lovely life could really be-
Nut House Central 