Cabin Fever

This house is bigger than we need.
I think we would have been happy
in anything; we caved, craving
shiny-newer-better: normal

progression of creature comforts.
This house is bigger than we need.
There are no strewn toys to trip us;
the kids melt into their own rooms

and I sit at my desk or perch
on a chair, musing, deciding
this house is bigger than we need.
My wandering view, window-framed

circumscribed by another yard,
rows of sameness. I must climb stairs
for grounding glimpse of sky, to see
this house is bigger than we need.

Better late than never for Jane’s quatern challenge?