Grandfather's Houses

Grandfather's house  frosted in white gingerbread windows panes of grandiose days where hardwood floors    bounce back    the tap tap of high buttoned shoes. Outside, magnolias perfume the air with thoughts of night passion. Across the thin creek the other house where his harlot waits. I saw her...naked under the bridge at dusk cinnamon hair veiling     her breasts. Under the bridge hiding from town authorities routing wicked women from chambered rooms. I saw her, a boy of ten...staring.