A disservice of fairy tales

the wild geraniums grew up the
fence, the vines choked out the
sunlight and wrapped their arms
around our bungalow, confused our
siding with earth until I slept

the charmed sleep while the
crickets made homes in the walls
the cicadas burrowed under the sink
These clouds laden with water
billowed over, feeding the new,

green walls, letting only a haze
of light filter through the ivy
Our house turned 100, and you
counted the spiral of glass above
the mantel, faceted ghost of now