“Emerald Acres” by Luke Hankins

Rough field of sunglaze
                                           on muting glass,
each pane half opaque
                                        and cradling light,
twenty acres of greenhouse glowing
                                                               in the sun, abandoned now
a year or more,
                            an angular architecture
                                                                      neither green
nor housing anything,
                                        though light takes up residence
on bright days or overcast,
                                                on moonlit nights or star-pricked.
An armor
                   for the humid air,
     full of gaps
                          where kids have stoned out the panes.
No protection,
                          but an appearance.
Twenty acres of ruin,
                                     a slowly failing house
—but a house nonetheless—
                                                 for an idea about beauty.