The House Two Corners Over

For years I have wanted to take a picture - the perfect picture of the house two corners over
Its white picket fence canopied by a fountain of spring pink
A house small - and square - and clean
That I have only noticed for one pink week each spring
And have thought to run back and get the camera

An awkward place to park though
Its narrow streets and private driveways uninviting to a stranger two blocks over
I could walk - twenty minutes over - twenty back (long streets)
Hoping that when I arrived the light would be just right still
Warm and hazy - not too much glare

Close again - the pink is to falling
I stop again - taking in what is left of the lushness - against squarness -
against stillness
The white spreading  - clean and clear
Looking for the patterns I crave

I longed for that picture this spring
The perfect picture before the pink had fallen
Next spring I will leave my camera by the door - then park close -
ignoring the rules of this stranger's place