You Can Make This Place Beautiful
She said, stressing the good bones of the frame,
Steering me adeptly past the broken plaster,
The stove’s pilot light that wouldn’t keep a flame.
I liked the place, though feared it just the same.
The hot bath water should have come faster,
And the chime of the doorbell was quite lame.
Her smile was warm, and the moment I came
Into the bedroom a hole made by the caster
Nearly broke my ankle like a football game.
She heard me shriek and her look became
One of alarm at first, fearing disaster,
Then softened to something close to shame.
We’ll get them to fix that. No house should maim
Its dweller, just as no dog bites its master,
She winked. She clearly was a clever dame.
Are you sure about this? Can I get your name?
I had far more questions I meant to ask her.
Before I could, though, she was gone. Still, I blame
None for this house I’ll surely have to tame.