with yellow marigolds glinting
just above the low smoulder
of last winter's brush piles
Red snapdragons spit their flame
up against the siding
and the water stains seem
to be steaming with the paint
boiling and swelling from the old wood.
The grey clouds sit on the roof
like sullen smoke.
Only the rain spoils the picture
They said you were my perfect match
But it doesn't seem that we get along
like a house on fire.
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