A real place – its all too solid walls,
appearing out of dense greenery
at the bend of a river… But also

the idea of a place: we go away
and carry it with us – in the city it lodges
at the corner of our minds…

and we can enter its door,
sleep on its bed, open its windows wide,
breathe it in, breathe.

How hard it is sometimes
to remember how to breathe.